


The Missing King

by andrasteshaircurlers



Series: Mabari Bred - The Story Of Two Cousland Sisters [2]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types
Genre: Apes & Monkeys, Asexual Character, Asexuality, Attempt at Humor, Battle, Battle Scenes, Black Character(s), Canon-Typical Violence, Combat, Comfort/Angst, Daggers, Dalish Culture, Dalish Elven Culture and Customs, Dalish Elves, Death, Drowning, Elf Culture & Customs, Eventual Smut, F/M, Female Antagonist, Female Character In Command, Female Protagonist, Fereldan Culture & Customs, Ferelden, Ferelden Culture and Customs, Fight Scenes, Fights, Fluff, Gen, Ginger - Freeform, Grudge, Humor, Kidnapping, King Alistair, Male-Female Friendship, Monkeys, Near Death, Near Death Experiences, Orlais, POV Alistair, POV Female Character, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Politics, Psychological Torture, Queen Cousland, Redheads, Revenge, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Sassy, Sexy Alistair, Smut, Story within a Story, Swordfighting, Swordplay, Swords, The Game, Violence, Warden Queen, Whipping, Women In Power, dagger - Freeform, female villian, medieval combat, polearms, red hair, redhead
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-01
Updated: 2016-04-04
Packaged: 2018-02-11 19:30:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 12
Words: 49,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2080353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andrasteshaircurlers/pseuds/andrasteshaircurlers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Alistair goes missing his warden queen finds herself on a quest to rescue him, along with some old friends that is.</p><hr/><p>If this was a balled… I think to myself. I would feel in my heart that he was still alive. But if that is supposed to happen for real, no one thought to inform my heart. Or perhaps it’s busy trying not to fall to pieces and so somehow missed the “Your husband is alive” memo.</p><p>So here I am. With a bloody heart that can’t even be relied upon to give me the bloody answers I want.</p><p>All I know is he is alive, I have no evidence. Nothing. But I can’t face life without him. So he’s alive. He’s alive. He is alive. If he is not I will find the bloody Maker and MAKE him give my man back to me.  </p><p>If anyone can storm the Maker… It’s me.</p><p>I will find him. And those who captured him have no idea who they are sodding dealing with. For every minute of anguish I endure, they will face untold agony. For every scratch they leave on my husband, I will do harm back on them a hundredfold.</p><p>Unless of course my man grabs me and kisses me. Because Maker knows I have priorities, and its rather impossible to stay mad at anything when he does that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Kidnapped

**Author's Note:**

> Art by http://heathwind-blog.tumblr.com/

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> King Alistair is kidnapped and his wife learns what has transpired.

 

The fact was, it was a dog that saved the king of Ferelden. Alistair Theirin let out a groan as his wife’s mabari, Chompers, jumped on the bed.

“Aw wh-? No! Not again!” He rubbed his eyes, “I miss her too, but you can’t just crawl into bed with people who are sleeping! We’ve talked about this!”

He had in fact given the dog a very stern lecture the day before. And the day before that. And… Maker, it was no use.

That’s when he noticed Chomper’s hackles were raised. Alistair stepped out of bed, grabbing his sword just as the door opened. The man who stood in the doorway was dressed entirely in black.

For a moment, just a moment, the king wondered how they had gotten past the guards. Then, with Chompers growling beside him, the king spoke to the intruder.

“You know I would offer you congratulations for getting this far, but something tells me you are not in a _friendly mood._ ” The intruder responded by pulling out a vial filled with a green, sparking substance.

Huh that was new.

Either way, Alistair would make quick work of this. He moved forward, sword in hand just as the intruder unstoppered the vial and threw its contents forward.

Somehow the mabari got in the way.

Both men watched the dog as he staggered a bit. Then Chompers’ eyes rolled back in his head and he fell on top of the attacker just as Alistair slayed the man.  But Alistair had made a crucial mistake. He had not counted on there being more assailants, and the second attacker did not rely on anything as elegant as whatever had been in the vial. King Alistair felt something hit him on the back of the head and he dropped like a stone.

 

Rays of light filtered through the treetops of the eastern Ferelden forestlands, lighting up splotches of scrub brush here and there. Torania Cousland Theirin avoided them, crouching hidden in the shadows as she drew back the string of her bow carefully behind her ear, "Light as a feather, silent as a wraith."

The words were whispered so no one but she herself could hear them. She let the string loose and the arrow flew, thudding into a tree just to the side of the wyvern she stalked. Torania grimaced.  She had never liked bows that much, anyway. As the creature let out a bellow, Torania dropped her bow to the ground, “Oh, to the void with this!”

The thin redhead did not look like the most feared warrior in the kingdom. She wore her hair in three pigtails, with two on either side, and one on the back of her head. She was pretty but not beautiful with incredibly prominent cheekbones, small black eyes, and a diamond shaped face. The soldiers holding back awaiting the woman’s order exchanged unimpressed looks. Apparently the woman did not live up to the stories. They only had a moment to harbor that notion, however, because the next thing they knew, the woman, their queen, had hopped out right in front of the creature.

“Weeeelll, you really are a Wyvern. When they said ‘ah help we’re being attacked by a Wyvern!’, I must admit I thought they had to have you confused for a Blighted Gurgut or something!  But really-,” The woman grinned and any of the men standing at the right angle could have seen a pronounced glint in her eye, “-This is much more interesting.”

Torania hopped aside as the creature shot a wad of poison where she stood, “Now really! Was that nice? We were talking-!” The queen broke off, looking at the poison.  A dark purple substance swirled inside it, “Now really? Really? A tainted wyvern? Andraste’s blood! This could get messy! Change of plans people.” The redhead announced never taking her eyes off the chimera. “I face this beastie alone!”

She lunged forward, darting to the side and weaving in and out of the monsters shot poison. Her blade, glowing with dwarven runes, bit into the creature's flesh again and again before the woman had to leap back. Wyverns were hard. The goal was to weaken them enough to be able to go in for a killing blow. The blade was as famous as its mistress, having belonged to the kings of Ferelden ever since King Maric had found it in the deep roads long ago. According to rumor, the current king, King Alistair, used the blade of his former grey warden mentor,and so Maric’s blade had fallen to Torania. The redheaded woman skidded to a halt, panting, dagger in one hand sword in the other.  “There.” she took a deep breath sheathing her sword then ran forward. Torania jumped, vaulting with a hand on the creature's head, swinging her body to the side out of the way of its shooting poison as she did so. Her other hand, the one holding the dagger came around stabbing up under its chin into the vulnerable flesh. Then she threw herself back retracting her dagger as the creature writhed in its death throes. Torania landed with a roll and put a bit more distance between herself and the monster as it spewed its last bit of poison and died.

A soldier put his hand on her shoulder. Apparently some had not stayed as far back as she has advised, “Are you alright your majesty!?”

Torania laughed, throwing her head back. She could still feel the exhilaration running through her veins though it was starting to fade now. “I haven’t had this much fun in…. I don’t know how long.” Briefly her thoughts flicked to the bedchamber. But she was not taking that into account. She accepted the man’s hand and pulled herself to her feet “Thank you” The queen walked over to inspect her kill “Any idea where it came from?”

“No,” one of the man at arms replied “We’ve never had trouble before.”

Torania lifted one of the sinewy wings, “They’re clipped.” The queen’s mouth became a thin line.  She ran her hands over the blighted creature as only a grey warden could do. “Chain marks.”

“It was brought here, then.” The leader of the local soldiers had come up in time to hear her remark. His voice was grim. “That’s an awful lot of trouble for some village near Edgehall. I thought it might have gotten confused and crossed the Frostbacks”

“It looks like it had some help,” Torania replied. “But it’s Blighted. Did it get that here?”

“It's possible, as your majesty knows there are still stragglers of the blight. The forest provides a plentiful place to hide. Besides who would be crazy enough to bring a blighted wyvern here? Surely your people... the Wardens... couldn’t have been involved?”

“Of course not!” Torania snapped, her brow remaining furrowed. “But that still leaves us with the fact that someone brought a wyvern here. Is this someone’s idea of a practical joke!? How many people did this thing kill before I got here!?” The guard captain opened his mouth but the queen interrupted him starting to pace. “Why here? Why here of all places. Unless…” Torania stopped pacing abruptly. A bit of color drained from her already pale face, “Unless it’s to get me away from the capital.”

 

“Ow.” That was the first word… er, thought… Alistair was aware of.  He was  unsure if he had said it aloud or not. He was aware of reaching his hand up instinctively towards the throbbing source of the pain, and feeling a lump on his head. He had time to think that that was going to make his hair look odd before a lurch caused the lump to bump rather hard into his hand and his mind went blank once more.

The envoy from Denerim met the queen about halfway back to the capital in a rush of excited barking. Torania, who would usually rush forward to hug her hound, filthy as he was, just patted his head absently looking at the man and woman who accompanied him. One was definitely Dalish by the looks of it. The other obviously from the palace “Well?” Torania braced herself for the news. Chompers the Mabari knew his mission. He was here to stop his mistress from exploding at the bad news. Something only he had any chance of doing. He carefully rubbed his head against her as the man from the palace opened his mouth.

“He’s gone, your majesty.”

“Who?” She demanded

“His majesty, the king.”

“What do you mean gone?” Torania hissed, taking a step forward.

“They didn’t tell me, your majesty! Just sent me to get you as soon as possible!” The man fell to his knees. Chompers whined and Torania reined herself in with some difficulty.

“Don’t…  Don’t do that….” She flipped both messengers a gold coin, “For your silence,” she informed them before then stalking off in the direction of the capital. Chompers padding along behind her, his tongue lolling out. “Your majesty, we’re supposed to go with you!” The man called after her, getting to his feet. Torania didn’t even turn her head, “Then keep up!”

 

 

Torania punched a vase as she entered the council room. As it fell to the floor and shattered, she turned to Arl Teagan and Bann Eamon, “How could this happen!?” The queen’s bereft remark rang through the air like a slap. How could YOU let this happen, she might as well had said.

“Now is not the time for blame!” Eamon scolded the queen, who was bending down to pick up the pieces of the broken vase. “Now more than ever we need to stay calm. Alistair is like a son to me, but letting my concern for him stop me from thinking clearly does him no favors.”

Torania hardly noticed as the sharp edge of one of the pieces of the vase cut her finger. “No, blame is for when I find who is responsible for this.” Her voice was low as she spoke, while her eyes had a distinctly dangerous look to them. Teagan almost felt himself feeling sorry for the kidnappers. Almost.

“And I know Eamon,” Torania continued, standing up. “I just had to hit something. Let me rephrase,” She kept her voice determinedly calm this time. “Tell me what we know.”

Teagan held up a small vial filled with a shimmery green powder. Torania raised an eyebrow. She had seen a lot of poisons in her life this did not even begin to resemble any of them. “What is it?” she asked gesturing for the vial.

Teagan handed it over as Eamon warned, “Don’t inhale it.”

“Why? What does it do?” Torania tilted the vial around watching the shimmery substance fall from one side of the glass to the other.

“We can show you.” The queen looked up and followed the gesturing hand out of the council room. They did not go far. The outer parlor solar seemed to have been taken up by an emergency field hospital. Cots were spread around the room, each taken up by a man or woman in the loose sort of clothing worn by guards under their armor. Healers weaved in and out of the beds, through the maze of bedraggled guards “We thought it best to treat them here and hopefully contain the news the king is missing.”

Torania gave a curt nod and walked up to one of the men. She knew this one. “Gils, what happened?” The man turned his wide eyes on her and then let out an unearthly shriek and started thrashing. Torania noticed now that he was bound to the bed.

“Now really!” A grey haired woman in mages robes stalked over to them. “Now, see what you’ve done girl! You’re going to get them all riled up! Now see there you go,” she added as various other guards started stirring. “Idiots, I’m surrounded by idiots!”

“Mistress mage, this is the queen; Torania.” Teagan said kindly. The woman was obviously new.

“I don’t care if she’s Andraste herself! Out! You are disturbing my patients! You wanted a healer? Well I’m the best they’ve got, now let me heal!”

“My husband is missing!” Torania snapped at the woman.

“So is my cat!” the woman retorted back.  

Torania drew herself up to her full, albeit small, small queenly height, trying to hold in her temper. “Madam, I Intend to stay here until I find out all I can so you had best get used to it!”

The mage looked Torania up and down and groaned. Then stalked off. “Pleasant chief of healers brother,” Teagan commented to Eamon who was looking a bit red-faced.

 

 

“So this…” Torania held up the vial, “Did something to everyone in the path from them to my husband? I don’t understand. That noise he just made was loud enough to wake the dead. Surely someone would have heard…. What?” She broke off as Eamon shook his head.

“They only do things like that when someone disturbs them your majesty, mostly they just lay there.”

“Well, if it knocks them out surely there would be a thump as they hit the ground. Someone would have heard that in time to stop this!”

“I believe it was your majesties who insisted on having half as many guards as the previous royal couple.“

Torania bit her lip at that trying to maintain control of herself.  She turned away from the royal advisers staring point blank at the wall. “I didn’t… We didn’t… This…” She took a deep, shuddering breath. Then she turned back . “Right. Eamon, if this powder reduces you to that-” She gestured at the many cots “-with a mere sniff, then how is it we have a vial of the stuff?”  

“Luck,” Bann Eamon answered, “Your dog apparently tried to crawl into your bed again just before they came for the king. Thus, the king was awake and warned ahead of time in enough time to meet an attack. By the looks of it, they managed to take down one of the attackers, and when they used the powder on your dog he fell on the body. Do you know your heavy your dog is your majesty?”

“Chompers came to get me. He was perfectly fine.”  Torania was scanning the room now for someone who did not look like a guard.

“The substance is apparently made to knock out humans. Chompers came out of it within hours,” Teagan clarified.

“And this attacker?” Torania’s voice was deliberately calm, and Eamon and Teagan exchanged looks.

“Dead. No identifying information. Just a pouch with a few of those vials and two old daggers, of a kind you could buy at any merchant.”

Torania turned her sharp gaze on the two older men, “And none of our healers can identify this substance?”

“No, your majesty.”

“Well then,” Torania pressed a hand against a nearby table, “I’d say it’s time to bring in a bit of help.”

 


	2. Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After discovering her husband was kidnapped, Torania calls on some old friends and asks them to help her. Agata the Healer comes up with an idea that could help lead to Alistair.

Zevran Arainai did not look like a man secretly leading a revolution. He did not look like a man that was proving ridiculously hard to kill, even for the group of assassins known as the Antivan Crows. He did not look like the type of man who had ended up having to defend himself from four of his previous conquests when they tried to slit his throat, and he did not look like a man who had helped to defeat an archdemon.  But, if Zev (as his friends called him) knew one thing, it was that looks could be deceiving.

He was a lean, muscular elf whose light blond hair contrasted sharply with his brown eyes and darkly tanned skin. He was handsome in a sense, but not extraordinarily so. There was nothing remarkable about his features. And now as he leaned back against his chair, head in his arms, feet on the table, he was the very picture of unconcerned leisure. Of course nothing could be further from the truth. He turned his head, however, as a bird soared through the open window and began preening its feathers and looked expectantly at Zevran, shifting its body so the carrying case strapped to it came into more prominent view. After, naturally, checking for traps the elven man opened the case, checked for traps again, just to be sure, then unrolled the parchment inside and began to read. As he did he started to grin. Then he stood up and walked to the doorway and stuck his head out, “Kitten! Pack your things it’s time for a vacation!”

 

 

The Great Chapel of Val Royeaux was truly exquisite. Leliana would never stop being awed by the splendor of the home of the Divine on Thedas.  It was truly a testament to the glory of the Maker. Leliana saw the Maker in many places.  As she walked past the guards, they nodded to her, seeing as they were used to the sight of the pretty, short-haired redhead, who many were calling the Left Hand of the Divine. Leliana hummed a little tune to herself as she proceeded forward until she reached the Divine’s private quarters, giving a special knock on the smooth surface before she entered. “Your holiness, you called for me?” Leliana asked the older woman sitting in a chair drinking tea. Or at least Leliana hoped it was tea.

“Ah Sister Nightingale. How would you feel about going back to Ferelden for a little while?”

Leliana raised an eyebrow. As far as she could tell, Ferelden seemed to be one of the most stable nations, “Is there a problem?” she asked.

The divine held up a letter. “It seems so, and they’ve asked for you especially.”

 

Ariane was the first to spot the messenger crow, as she sat in their impromptu campsite, cleaning her armor “Finn! It’s another one of your little birdies!”

The fact was, though the male mage was traveling with her now, he was not willing to give up contact with certain scholars he had been writing with most of his life, or certain friends. “OOOh look! this one has the royal seal!” the female elf exclaimed. The mage who raised an arm to receive the messenger bird was not the best looking, with an odd-shaped face, brown eyes and rather average brown hair. The leather he wore was a new addition. Florian Phineas Horatio Aldebrant, Esquire had spent most of his life in nothing but the cleanest of robes. The elven woman next to him was much prettier with alert blue eyes, elegant features,  and shoulder length brown hair “What does it say!?”  She inquired scooting closer to the mage “It says we’re wanted….” Finn answered… “By the queen!”

 

Waiting was not Torania’s strong suit. She spent a good deal of time in the practice rings murdering dummies, an appropriate amount ruling the nation telling everyone Alistair was on a trip - it was a common enough occurrence - and the rest frantically trying to figure out what was in the mysterious poison. In the few moments she had alone to spare, she slid down against the wall and sobbed. As Chompers came up to her and she petted him absently while stroking the rose in a pendant around her neck with her other hand.  It wasn’t the separation, though goodness know how much she hated that. She had learned to put up with it. It was part of the gilded cage called royalty she had locked them in long ago.

She had chosen duty over happiness. The good of the people over personal freedom.  She had owed the people too much to let Anora be sole ruler so she had had no choice but to shove him, Alistair in that golden cage. She had taken his hand and followed him inside, for if she had to condemn the man she loved she would at least condemn herself with him. But temporary separation due to royal duty was different than this… this not knowing… For all they knew he could be hurt or, Maker forbid, gone.

Torania leapt to her feet, wiping her eyes quickly. She was going to go massacre another training dummy.

 

The second time Alistair woke to a throbbing head and a jostling movement, he reached his arms out to either side to brace himself. They hit wood. Trying to think straight, he felt around in the darkness, only to find he was trapped in some sort of box-thing. There was nothing to use to break free of the box, nothing else inside in fact besides some dried meat and a leather water flask, which Alistair drank greedily from.  So naturally, Alistair began to do the very kingly thing to do. He screamed his head off. Jostling meant travel and travel meant the possibility of encountering others besides his captors. Or perhaps he could just annoy his captors enough. He was good at that.

 

Torania was in their study looking at papers of state, or trying to. Her head kept wandering, and she was going remarkably slow for her usual rate. Then the first breakthrough occurred, coming with a knock on the door and the entrance of the healer from before much to Torania’s grievance.

“Tired of pretending to be King and Queen?” The healer leaned against the door frame, scanning Torania.

The queen growled. “Are you trying to make me lose it!? Do you know how many training dummies I’ve destroyed since I heard the news? Over fifty! Now in little splinters of wood and worn mental!”

The mage ignored the scarcely veiled threat with a shrug. “I have a proposition for you, Your Majesty, and I thought I’d remind you just what was at stake. Besides the lives of the many men and woman suffering downstairs who fell in the line of duty, I mean.”

“You don’t need to remind me what is at stake!” Torania snapped.

“Good. This should be easy then.” The mage stepped inside. “I need your permission to use the vials of poison we have as I see fit.”

Torania drummed her fingers on the desk. “And how is that?”

The healer sighed. “I don’t normally do explanations”

“Try.” came the curt reply

“We need to know what’s in the poison in order to treat it. The substance inside seems to be made of specks of different plant materials.  I was thinking if we tried to match those things up together…”

“Like a puzzle.” Torania finished, her mouth forming a little O. “Oh, let’s do it!” The Queen smiled slightly for the first time since fighting the wyvern. “Where are they? Let’s get started right away!”

The healer looked taken aback, “Let’s as in us? As in you?”

“Of course. You didn’t think I wouldn’t be a part! This is my husband we’re talking about, woman!” Torania sighed. “But if anyone asks I’ve locked myself in the study and am not to be disturbed.  I of course am not exposing myself to dangerous toxins even with safety precautions. Alright?”

The corner of the healers mouth twitched up a bit, “Understood, Your Majesty.”

 

 

Torania now spent most of her time with a mask on dissecting the powder trying to separate the different components in it, all the while glaring at it like it had murdered her first born. The healer would send her away when she noticed Torania getting tired but this was often thwarted by the fact the Queen was having trouble sleeping. She was still  working away when Finn and Ariane entered the room. Somewhere they had gotten masks.

“That part should go there.” the mage observed over her shoulder.

“And why are we working with dangerous plants? I mean, normally the shemlen consider us plant-obsessed not the other way round”

Torania paused and turned to look Finn up and down. “You look different.” Then she turned to Ariane, “And you look just about the same.”

“And you… You look horrible… Have you even slept since we last saw each other?” Finn asked.  Torania scowled at him. “Sorry, sorry.” The mage amended “I’m sure your husband finds you as lovely as ever even with those dark circles. Wait, sorry. He’s not here, is he?” Finn looked around nervously as if expecting the king to materialize from thin air.

“No he’s not here.” Torania turned back and focused her efforts on putting together pieces of the poison in a frenzied fashion.

“Can someone explain what is going on? Why were we summoned all the way here! I had to walk by some very suspicious Templars!”  Torania turned around. Explaining things more than once was going to be painful. But she was not going to tell anyone else to do it for her. She owed everyone that. Torania watched the female healer out of the corner of her eye. The woman was trusted enough to know the secret of the king’s disappearance; trusted enough to help with the poison, but Torania was not sure if she felt like explaining the entire plan in front of the woman.

The queen sighed. “Look Finn, Arianne, the king is missing. This”  -she gestured to the poison-  “is our only clue. As soon as it is pieced together, I’ll tell you everything.” She held up a finger. “If you don’t ask any questions yet, I’ll buy you a nice book  alright? Feel like lending a hand.?” Fin opened and closed his mouth.  It was bribery, but it worked.

 

Of course Zervan could never arrive in a conventional manner

The queen lay on the double bed she and Alistair usually shared, remembering the feel of his strong arms around her. “I will find you” she whispered.

“I know” The from-earlier voice replied in her mind. The queen sat up, strapping on her sword and dagger just in case, but not bothering to change out of her night dress. Restless she exited the royal apartments and began to wander the halls. This was taking way too long.

“Points for the guards but you still make too much noise throwing the climbing hook”

“How am I not supposed to make noise throwing metal against stone!”

The first voice was a from earlier one, the second a female,  she did not know. Torania rounded the corner.

Zevran Arainai was holding up a tri-clawed metal hook in front of another elf. This one was younger with brown hair, large ears, And the same Antivan skin tone..

Zevran spotted Torania first “You see I told you this would attract notice.” The male elf gestured a hand at the queen. The younger brunette elf suddenly vanished. Zevran sighed.

“What in the maker’s name are you doing?” Torania Demanded. “Who is… was… that?”

“Training” Zevran grinned at her. “You did not think we would come in the front door when there was fun to be had? Ah, and this? This is my apprentice, Kitten. I call her such because she moves like one. Speaking of which. You are doing it again, Kitten”

“Doing what?” The elf girl reappeared.

“The sneaking thing.” He turned back to Torania. “So what is the emergency? Why did you summon us all the way from Antiva, my old friend? Not that I am complaining, mind you. Vacations are always nice.” As Torania opened her mouth, Zev held up a hand “No, let me guess. Alistair has gone missing?” The crow raised an eyebrow.

Torania balled her hands into fists. “How…”

“You are walking around in the middle of the night in your night dress, which is very nice if I do say,  with your weapons.”

The queen had the decency to blush. “I’m going to need your help”

“Naturally,” the assassin agreed amiably, “but you might wish to find someone to revive your guards”

 

Leliana arrived at the palace only to find a young elf talking to a rabbit outside. A crow dagger marked her as not a local. “Alright I’ll talk to the cats about chasing you.” The elf held out a hand with a small treat in it, which the rabbit eagerly ate, then turned and ran. The large-eared elf giggled and called “You’re welcome” after the fleeing bunny.

“You were talking to that bunny. You do not really think it understands what you’re saying, do you?” The bard asked, cocking her head slightly to the side

“Of course it does!” Kitten puffed out her chest indignantly. “And I understand it.”

Leliana blinked. “Oh, ah, I see” There were people who thought she herself was crazy. Leliana shook her head slightly as is if to clear it. Perhaps she was looking at this the wrong way.

“Are you here to see the queen?” The girl elf asked.

“Yes, are you?” Leliana asked eyebrows pressed together

“I am here with my master.  The queen summoned us all the way from Antiva. We decided it would make a nice vacation. Kitten at your service,” the elf gave an exaggerated bow, strangely reminiscent of her master.

Suddenly Leliana knew exactly who Kitten was. “You must be Zevran’s apprentice. It is nice to finally meet you.” She told the elf

“And you must be…. Waiiiiiiiittt you are not another one of his conquests are you!?” The teenager looked a little put out crossing her arms over her chest. “He keeps hooking up with bad people and I keep having to try to sabotage things!”

It was not a romantic jealousy, Leliana noted. She was used to such things of course. It was more the type of jealousy a child would have for a parent, or a sibling about their older brother.

The bard smiled slightly. “On no. But you can tell me about these… conquests… later… I think that would be a good idea.”

 

Torania gathered the small crowd before her, Zevran, her best friend in the world with his new apprentice, and Leliana, a woman who knew the world of secrets like no other and yet who Torania counted as a close friend. With Finn and Arianne, she had already gone on a mad chase. With them she also knew her confidence was safe, and Finn’s skill was second only to Wynne’s, who was busy, and perhaps this new healer.

She paused, standing before all of them in the light of the study window; Zevran, Kitten, Leliana, Finn, Ariane. They were likely not the people most would gather to them, when they needed people to trust.  But Torania had never been most people. “I promised I would end the blight did I not? And I did it.”  She turned for confirmation.

“Si.” Zevran nodded. The elf was sitting in a chair, leaning back on two of it’s legs as he watched her intently

“I promised I would find Morrigan, I did it”

“Yes.” Arianne commented from her spot against the wall, in front of the door.

“My husband… Alistair… is gone… but I promise! I promise to you! I promise to everyone I will find him!” Her breathing had gone slightly ragged, and she forced it to slow down. “He will be alright… But I want you to help me.” Torania looked down for a moment taking a deep breath. In out. In out. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides, the nails biting into her skin, then she released and let her hands go slack.

Slowly Torania looked up at them, eyes blazing now. “Someone has gotten it in their head that it is a bright idea to kidnap my husband! To kidnap the King of Ferelden. I don’t know who they are or why they did this, but I know that someday soon the day will come when they will look upon this decision with enormous regret. And they will regret it, in fact, for the rest of their very short lives. There are some who think that Alistair is weak. There are some that think he is nothing but a foolish child.  _They are wrong_. I don’t know why they want him. But they will learn Alistair is not what they expected. As for me, I am asking you all to come with me to find him. To help me make them pay and bring him back to my side. I trust in you all more than I would any stranger. Please. Help me.”

In the wake of her words there was a short silence, then Zevran spoke first.

“Rah. Impressive speech, You always were good at that, though I would add a bit more of you womanly charms with other audiences and see how much further it gets you.” The elf began. “We are in, of course.” He indicated himself and his apprentice with a single hand. “As I said before, I would follow you to the black city itself though I hope this leads us to more pleasant destinations yes?” The Antivan assassin paused. “And sorella? He will be ok.”

“If Alistair is in trouble, of course we will help you,” Leliana added, subtly spinning a net around the remaining two members of the group, who would now have to actually contradict her to get out of the task. “This must be so hard on you, we will do whatever we can.”

Arianne and Finn were exchanging a look seemingly oblivious to the bard’s trap. Finn turned back. “Right! We’re in! So… what do we actually do? Just wondering, you know.”


	3. Stories & Preperations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Agata makes a breakthrough, and the Queen and Co. travel to their first lead.

 

It was hard to think. That was the good thing about dungeon cells, Alistair supposed. There was not much to contemplate in the way of surroundings. Everything was still a blur. He thought his head was getting better. He vaguely remembered traveling in that box-thing… but that was about it…

The next memory was waking up here in the not-so-darkness. They had had the kindness to provide him with a chamber pot!  Oh, how thoughtful of them. Now if only they could provide a key and someone to help him stand upright he would be a very happy man.

Well, not very happy. Happier, at least. Tori!  She was still safe right?  Please don’t let them have gotten her…. Well, actually the idea of his captors meeting his wife was a rather appealing one, at the moment. As long as she was armed and did not get hit from behind like he had; he was fairly sure she would not.

Slowly the King stood up, bracing himself against the wall as the room spun, so he could maneuver himself closer to the door. “You do realise I’m married to the Hero of Ferelden, _don’t you_ ?” He called, “You do realise what happens when she gets here?  It doesn’t go very good for you, _I’ll tell you that_!”

That was when the King realized that threatening his enemies might not be the best idea for him right now. He stopped; Alistair didn’t know what they intended. All he knew was that he had to stay alive until he could be rescued. Focus on that, he told himself, focus on that.

 

 

The healer, whom Torania had since learned was called Agata, flounced into the room like a mabari puppy with its first bone. “It’s Crystal Poppy. The main ingredient is Crystal Poppy,” she announced to the small group gathered in the chamber off the rooms) reserved for poison dissection. Torania sat up from the cot she had been lying on, trying to get at least a bit of sleep; something that was proving impossible while everything was stagnant in the search for her husband.

Finn let out a low groan,“Crystal Poppy was originally from Orlais, but is extinct there now, some noble took a dislike to it and ordered it all eradicated. Now the only place you can find it is around this one abandoned chateau from the time of the occupation.” He paused, looking very put out, “We have a history.”

“A history?” Ariane’s jovial voice sounded both interested and incredulous as she spoke up from where she was inspecting some carvings. She turned, the Vallaslin of June standing out prominently on her face in the torchlight, “You make it sound as though you used to give it kisses under the moonlight or something.” Finn pulled a face.

Agata cracked a rare smile. “Oh, Ines Darcia dragged Sir Fussy, here, on a trip to collect it as an apprentice. He spent the rest of the month complaining about how the plants ruined his robes.”

“You would, too, if you had to harvest so much of that monstrosity!”

“Unlike you, boy, I never tried to make up for my lack of control over my life by trying to take control over every other little thing I could to the point of absurdity,”  Agata deadpanned.

“ _Anyhow,_ I know where to find it,” Finn commented.

 

 

 

The Antivan Crow stood before his apprentice in the most hilarious armor known to history. At least, one would think so by the amount Kitten was laughing. “You look like a bird!”

“I am a Crow!” Zevran adjusted the crow skull like mask of a headpiece Then to her horror, he pulled out another smaller set of the armor.

“No, Zevran! There is no way I am wearing that!” The teenage elf’s eyebrows had shot into her hair, her ears stark upright in alarm.

“But Kitten, we must match! I had one specially made!” Zevran insisted, shaking the armor ever so slightly to indicate it.

“No Zevran, not in public!” she refused. “I will take it and talk to the birds and become the queen of all bird crows but I will not wear this in non- animal public!” Her ears flicked back. A monkey popped it’s head out from beneath her hair and chattered. Kitten nodded. “Yes Ooa he does look ridiculous.”

Zevran scowled, ears also flicking backward, and shoved both elf and monkey out of his chamber. “Out! If you will spoil my gloriousness, you can pack when I am done!”

 

 

 

*“If we are to be on the road for awhile we should tell stories to pass the time, no?”  Leliana spoke up as they traveled the long walk from the Denerim to Frostbacks. Torania had always enjoyed her stories during the blight, eagerly asking her for tales whenever she could. Leliana hoped stories could distract her friend now; for it was clear that Torania needed distraction. The Queen was morose, for lack of a better word. Worried about Alistair; the bard knew.

Torania looked at her, black eyes interested. The woman had a frankly uncanny gift for avoiding dark circles to the extent that she should have them, Leliana had noticed. If there was a secret to this, she could sell it to the woman of Orlais for more gold than was in the Fereldan treasury, the Bard thought wryly. And she still looked rather bad.

“Good idea,” the Queen seized upon the suggestion. Anything for a distraction.“We should take turns while we walk!”

Leliana stuck to tales of great heroes,or the areas they were passing through, her voice soothing as she sometimes sang, sometimes spoke. Zevran’s tales were of his assassin days; mostly his lucky escapes. Kitten told her tales at a fast rate. Sometimes about things no one else understood. She paused frequently for her monkey to chime in, nodding in agreement and then continuing as though the monkey had added to the tale with its sounds. Finn was full of obscure facts and trivia, though his tales were not quite as long as the others.

And Torania? Torania spoke of Ferelden history. Torania spoke of things she had fought. And sometimes with her friends here, around her, Torania spoke of Alistair. The times he bought out entire flower shops for her and the time he had made her inedible breakfast in bed and she had ended up making a contest about who could eat more of it, resulting in them both needing a healer. Alistair who was man enough not to be intimidated by such a strong wife. Alistair who was so much to her. But she did not tell them everything.

When her family had perished, she had been broken. Torania remembered that darkness. An abyss with no laughter, no smiling. Trudging along with only darkness inside for real company. Trying to hide how broken she truly was from Duncan.

She remembered meeting him for the first time. “You know one good thing about the blight is how it brings people together,” he had said. And suddenly there was laughter pouring from her lips. Laughter she thought never to hear again.

It was true, and she knew it. Other people don’t heal you. Other people can’t put you back together. You have to do that. But sometimes she thought, someone can be a light. A light that penetrates the darkness and inspires you to swim up out of the dark to reach it.

Then, he had lost his family too, the Wardens. Just like her, and she had thought that the light would go out. _But he kept joking._ Kept shining. Something she could never do. Torania might be able to kick his arse, but Alistair was the strongest man in the world. Which was why he had to be okay. He would be okay. Torania did not want to face a world without him.

Despite her worry for her husband however, or perhaps because of it, that first journey on their quest, and some of the stories and interactions that sprang up during it, would stick in Torania’s mind most vividly of all the long days of traveling between locations after the whole affair was over.

 

“In Orlais, all play the game or so it is said,” Leliana began, while on the first stretch of their journey from Denerim, down the West Road, toward Southreach. The Haftar River could be heard in the background providing a pleasant backdrop to her story. “But perhaps one of the people who played it best did not do so in the traditional way. His name was Lord Remi Vascal, and to many he was nothing but a fop, a playboy, and a fool.”

“But Remi had a secret identity you see. For when he donned his special mask and equipped his bow he became the Black Fox. He would appear in public and ridicule one Lord of Val Chevin, not a man to be trifled with, for his deeds in oppressing and unreasonably taxing his people.

“ When the Lord put a bounty on the Black Foxe’s life and the job was taken up by the feared bounty hunter Karolis!  Karolis, who instead eventually became the Black Fox’s greatest ally and supporters.

“ So now I begin my tale. Chevaliers, when they get too old to keep up with the younger members of their order, often choose to retire, and some retire to the Chantry. So it was with the Sister Mirelle. Oh, she had been a fearsome chevalier, skilled vastly in the ways of battle. And she vowed to capture the Black Fox.

     The Black Fox knew of this, but the people depended on him to aid them in enduring the cruelty of their lord. One day as the Black Fox was just outside a certain small town, he found himself separated from his allies. To make matters worse, he saw Sister Mirelle nearby.

 

Afraid she would capture him and turn him in, he rushed frantically into the house of an old woman that he had aided before. ‘Help me dear Madame as I have helped you!’ he pleaded.

           Desiring to help the Black Fox, she suggested they exchange clothing, and so they did. The Black Fox then set out to find his men, but seeing him in the old woman’s clothing Karolis the Loyal thought he was an apostate! He tried to shoot the poor man!

Meanwhile the Sister came to the old woman’s house and concluded that she was the Black Fox! All would have come to ruin if it were not for a single wild halla who got in the way of the arrow shot at our hero! The Black Fox threw off his cloak shouting that it was him as a gust of wind caught the garment blowing it away into the face of the horse carrying the Sister and the old woman. The Sister and the old woman were thrown from the horse, the Sister breaking both legs and the old woman miraculously uninjured!” Leliana paused for dramatic effect, “I do not know if it is true, but the tale is often told as a way of warning Sisters that they must be pure at heart.”

“ The Black Fox payed for a healer for the Sister, but left far before she was able to capture him, insisting only on a blessing as payment. She never tried to go after him again, saying it was the Maker’s will he remained free to do his good work.”

“So you are telling me…” Torania began,  as they continued to walk, “that she would have completely gotten away with everything if she had not used a horse?” _Figures_ the red haired queen thought to herself as she took a deep inhale. She could almost smell the crops from the Bannorn to their north.

“I do not think that is the point of the story,” Leliana gave a slight frown

“Does anyone else notice how a halla sacrifices its life and everyone assumes the Maker is somehow behind this?” Ariane commented as she bent down to pick a wildflower and stick it in her hair. ”It probably was not even a halla.”

“Oh and what makes you so sure?  About it not being a halla.” Finn asked from the back “I mean I agree that it probably was not the Maker. He doesn’t seem the type to need forest creatures. He could just shoot lightning or something,”

“What halla says to itself. Oh the sun is shining. Today is a great day. I think I’m going to sacrifice myself for a shemlen who somehow thinks that an old lady will be able to pass as himself by changing clothes!” Arianne pointed out

“Point taken,” Finn conceded.

“I’m not sure if the fact that it actually bloody worked makes this more or less sad…” Torania mused. “Oh! I think I know how we can explain this all! I can do it in one word, watch! _Orlais…._ Sorry Leliana.”

 _“That was three words you know.”_ Finn's voice corrected.There was a girlish scream as the mage was pushed into the river.

“This Black Fox was supposed to be a great thief and so forth, am I correct? Why did he not rob the Sister?” Zevran asked.

“Ooa says he should have assassinated her,” Kitten added

“The monkey knows better than the great thieves of Thedas now.”  The older assassin commented dryly.

“The point of my story was, of course, that the simplest actions of the Maker and his pure hearted children can make a difference in ways we could not see possible,” Leliana concluded, exasperated.

 

As they stopped for the night Torania noted that, as always, what people did with themselves in camp was telling. Leliana tended to polish the shaft of her bow as she hummed or talked. She had a full stock of arrows so making more was unnecessary and her poisons seemed to be in order. If she was not doing that, she was picking flowers. The woman had a talent for flower crowns that was rather astounding. It soon became a pastime to try to stick them on someone’s head when they were not looking. A feat that Kitten excelled at.

Ariane and Finn worked well together. The mage was in charge of packing and unpacking their things as well as setting up their tents. He did it faster than any of the others and had both tents set by the time anyone else had theirs halfway up, proclaiming that he had found ways to make things 60 percent faster. There was nothing hidden between those two. Torania even wondered if he knew what was on that ring Ariane refused to show anyone. Normally she would ask if he did... but she just didn’t.

Arianne hunted and cooked. That seemed fitting, as she was, according to her own admission, the best hunter in her clan and as Torania soon found, a decent cook as well!

Zevran stayed near Torania; as if he was afraid she might fall apart and wanted to be there to pick up the pieces. Mostly he polished his crow daggers and poked at the fire until Ariane threatened to break his fingers.

Kitten could usually be found at the edges of camp talking to an animal and acting like it was talking back. In fact, soon Torania started to wonder if the elf actually _could_ talk to animals. Where in Thedas had Zevran found her!?

Torania herself tended to move around camp like a woman possessed. Only to stop instead and sit down for a long time while polishing her blades. Then repeat the entire process. She volunteered to take first watch… and second… and third… They would not let her take fourth.

“Get some rest! Maker knows we may need it.” Leliana told her.

 

“Is it my turn to tell a story!? Is it my turn!?” Kitten hopped as she asked the question, ears twitching excitedly.

“Yes Kitten it is your turn.” Zevran informed her.

           “Do you all think I’m crazy?” Kitten began grinning widely, “I’m the most sane person in my family that I know of. At least that is alive!”  She paused dramatically, “I have a brother.” The monkey interrupted with chirping sounds. “I did too! You fell asleep after the first two words!" Kitten told her monkey.

“ When we were younger and the girls first started chasing me, when I used to run from them, before I gave up. That’s when it all started. That’s when we explored the icy stabstab cave.”

“The icy stabstab cave?” Ariane asked, raising an eyebrow as she walked.

“Yes, ahhh that is what we named it… ok that is what I named it… but I won the arm wrestle fair and square so I got to name it!” The monkey hopped up and down on Kitten’s shoulder and made inquiring sounds.

“Ooa I am in the middle of telling a story!  Anyhow, ‘decided to explore’ might not be the most accurate term. My brother fell in and made such a fuss about being trapped that I had to go in and get him. Fell might not be the most accurate either...  How was I supposed to know that if I pushed him he would trip and roll down a hill and fall into a cave! Ooa made clicking sounds.

“That’s right Ooa, I am!  He is the one who started it. He insulted my ears!” Kitten nodded before continuing.  “After I gracefully entered the cave, which he completely ruined by tripping me on my way down, We realized we were both stuck.”

“Wait a moment!  Wait a moment!” Torania interrupted falling back next to Kitten. “You jumped down into the cave after him..? With absolutely no way to get out? And just hoped what? You would magically grow a few feet?”

“Technically we jumped down twenty-five feet so growing a few feet would not have helped.” Kitten answered her.

“And you did not break anything!?” The queen demanded incredulously.

“No! Uncle taught us how to land!” Kitten assured her enthusiastically.

“I object!” Torania brought a fist down into her other hand. “This was twenty-five bloody feet!”

“I don’t think you can object to a story.” Leliana commented from ahead.

“I can bloody try!” the queen retorted.

“I object to all this dirt,” Finn added mournfully

“I object to Orlesians!” Torania now seemed to be enjoying herself being contrary. “Besides Leliana of course.”

“I object to Fereldans” Zevran added from somewhere near the Queen’s ear.

“I object to you goading me!” she replied.

“I object to objecting to me goading you!” Zev answered in return.

“I object to assassins!” Torania shot at him.

“Just the gloriously handsome ones or…?” the blond elf quirked an eyebrow.

Torania went quiet, but only because the eyebrow thing reminded her of her husband. Only Alistair did it better. Much better.

“Shhh, let her finish this story,” Arianne hushed the others The dalish elf seemed rather fascinated

“I object to all this interrupting” Kitten added in a dry voice. Ooa the monkey screeched offendedly from Kitten’s shoulder.  “Not from you Ooa,” the elf assured the monkey. You're different and when I answer you it makes them have the silliest faces!”

“Anyway, Torania you caught me.”  Kitten fell in a dramatic faint before standing up again and receiving a pat on the head from Zevran which she purred in response to.

“Alright, Alright that’s just disturbing,” Finn grumbled

Ooa and Kitten stuck their tongues out while Zevran just grinned. Then the younger elf continued, “I may or may not have discovered the hole the day before, dumped a bunch of leaves into the bottom, got my brother to walk that way with me, pushed him into the hole, and in a great act of misguided heroics jumped in it to save him... Getting us both trapped so he would explore it with me.”

Zevran was just beaming by now holding out both hands to indicate Kitten, as if she was the best thing in Thedas.

“So we began to explore the cave.  It was not long before the cave turned to ice and there was knives sticking out of the wall at random locations.”

“Mmmmnnn”  The Queen did not look convinced.

“We did what any completely logical person would do; spend a while breaking the ice so we could steal some of the knives. My brother was whining about it, but it was very good he was listening to me because when we turned the corner we saw an _army_ of weird partly frozen skeletons!”

“Really _really_?” Torania demanded incredulously.

“Well there was this bigger skeleton with a weird helmet on his head in front of a glowing gem with a lot of runes written around it. Knowing that uncle would give us a break from chores for a week if we brought home the jewel we decided to fight the army.”

“I OBJECT!”  The Queen screeched the words now, thrusting an arm into the air finger pointing upwards. The action might have been more powerful had she actually been facing Kitten not walking ahead of her with her back to the Antivan elf.

“So after spending a long while playing and killing the skeletons, we worked to try to steal the jewel.. We both managed to touch the jewel at the same time”

“And you’ve never been the same in the head since?” the Queen suggested helpfully.

“Torania no spoiling!  Anyway, the place collapsed around us while we were arguing about who touched the jewel first and who got to present it. That’s when my brother vanished with the jewel.” Kitten finished.

 

 

 

As they got closer to their destination behavior in camp shifted. Now everyone was preparing for a fight. Leliana triple checked her poisons and Zevran did the same. Torania polished her blades over and over.

And of course practicing got more intense. Torania flipped and twirled  A whirl of movement and sharp edges; doing her practice exercises. Ariane seemed to move in a series of patterned moves to train her mind and her blades. And Zevran continued his lessons with his apprentice.

“Now Kitten I notice you tend to attack with the dagger point up,” Zevran began as he and the elf stood just outside the warmth of the fire.

“So?” The elf asked

“ So it is just that there are so many reasons to hold it upside down,” Zevran replied

“Alright what?” the elf asked, one ear moving downward as the other moved up.

“We need a target…”  The older Antivan’s eyes began casting about.

“No cutting trees! That did not end well last time,” Kitten insisted, absently petting her monkey as the small creature played with her brown hair.

“No, no, trees will not do… we need something soft and human…” Zevran replied

“No Ooa! No Ooa!” Kitten screeched, clutching the monkey protectively to her chest

“Finn!  You are brave and daring manly man no!? Come and prove your mettle!” The assassin attempted to butter up the mage.

“I like Finn! He fun to annoy no no no!” Kitten wailed.

“We are not actually going to kill him my Kitten,” Zevran reassured his apprentice.

“We are not?”

“Noo…. Torania? Why don’t we…. No bad idea...” Zevran seemed to have decided it was safer not to use the Queen.

“What if we use armor?” Kitten suggested eagerly.

Zevran sighed, “Alright Kitten imagine an invisible person!”

“That still be imagining nothing!  They _are_ invisible!” Kitten replied.

“You know I’d be happy to demonstrate on you,” Torania offered sweetly from her spot by the fire as she polished her blade.

“No no... It is not that I don’t trust you Sorella, it is just that in your current state…”

“Oh give me that!” the Queen snapped, marching and grabbing the dagger.  “Right let's do this!”

Kitten vanished from view abruptly

“Hold it!  Where did the other one go!?”  Torania looked around wildly.

“She's still watching,” Zevran assured his friend.  Apparently this was a normal occurrence.

Holding the dagger so the blade pointed down in his grasp, Zevran moved the tip close to the Queen’s rather flat bosim. “See Kitten, from this position you have a much more powerful stab.” Zevran instructed.

“More ow ow yay!” the elf enthused, still not visible.

“Unless of course I shove your arm to the side” Torania demonstrated.

“Oh no she didn’t!” came the other Antivan voice.

“At which point I twist my wrist and stab up into the not very armored part under her armpit like so.” Zevran showed the movement.

“Go Zev!” Kitten cheered

“Of course I could just behead him with the sword that is in my other hand.” Torania pointed out, pretending to strike with an invisible blade

“Don’t you dare!” Kitten gasped.

“Which is why having the dagger pointed downward in my other hand, I can hold it along my arm like armor facing outward to block an attacking blade.” Zevran switched the dagger to his other hand to demonstrate.

The monkey made chirping noises at this point, to which Kitten replied, “No Ooa you cannot have a dagger.”

“But there is still the fact that I have the advantage with my longer blade.” The queen was not competitive. Not at all…

“And this is of course why we sneak” Zevran concluded.

“Thank you for the lesson. Ooa will now practice with me,” Kitten grinned. “No Ooa you cannot have a sword either.”

 

 

 

And finally they reached it. The manor house stood in stark contrast to the uninterrupted nature around it in the mountain clearing. It was like someone had picked up a nice little chateau from the Orlesian countryside and dropped it on the rugged terrain of the Frostbacks.

“I see the flowers. This is the right place,” Ariane commented. “At least I think those are the flowers. _I’ve_ never seen anything like them before.”

Crystal poppy lived up to it’s name, with it’s flowers appearing almost crystalline in appearance, and more than that translucent. It had almost unearthly beauty, but it's dust, harmless on its own got over everything. It was apparent why it might drive an Orlesian to distaction.

“Hmmmm I remember it being more…. Run down last time.” Finn peered with the rest of them out from behind the shelter of a clump of trees near a back path to the house.

Leliana pursed her lips together. “I do not like this.”

Torania caught Zevran’s eyes and jerked her head at the building. The Antivan crow grinned and lowered his crow mask, making a gesture to his apprentice. Then both vanished to the shadows to scout ahead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kitten is the character of my beloved little sister. In this chapter I was told by her how she would behave in the scene with the crow armor, then provided the dialogue for the other scenes from then on.
> 
> Elsewhere in the fanfiction she is fully written by me.


	4. First Engagements

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alistair comes face to face with his captor and proves that Fereldan sass can trump Orlesian Scorn. Meanwhile Torania finds herself alone in a battle against odds even she would not wish upon herself.

Alistair Theirin lay on his side on the cold floor of the dungeon cell. He wanted his wife. He wanted more food. He wanted out. Through it all he managed to keep his hair styled the way he liked it, partly because that was pretty much the only thing to do. The King of Ferelden was bored almost to tears.

So it was that he was almost grateful when the door opened and two burly men entered. Alistair didn’t try to run. Maker knew he would never make it. The men grabbed him by each of his arms and dragged him to his feet.

“Ooooh ow careful! That hurts!”

They ignored him and half led, half dragged the King along to a rather fancy chamber. As he was shoved into a chair and tried up, Alistair looked around, his eyes adjusting to the light. opposite of him a woman, dressed in Orlesian finery, entered the room. Alistair looked up into her face.

The woman was middle-aged and golden blonde with rosebud lips and a strong nose. All and all rather pretty, or at least she would be if she stopped scowling at him like he was a bug to be squashed under her shoe. But her eyes… Alistair almost reeled backward. Her deep dark brown eyes blazed with hate.

“I thought I could smell a dog lord before I even entered the room.” Her voice was thick and predictably Orlesian. She sat down at the desk finders laced.

Well, that was original  Alistair thought. “If you don’t want to smell me,” he told her “you might not want to leave me in a dungeon cell for days on end… Just saying.”

Her eyes appraised him critically. “Yet you seem to have managed your hair rather well.” Her own hair was of course carefully tailored with not a strand out of place.

“My hair is just special like that.”  He jutted out his chin slightly.

Her nose wrinkled. “So this is the result of Maric’s line."

“Yessss,” Alistair drawled, “that’s me.” To be honest, he was used to nobles being less than impressed with him. It made them underestimate him a lot more than was wise.  “No need to bow. You look like you might hurt your back,” he added dryly.

“I would NEVER bow to you!” The woman’s eyes flashed dangerously as she snapped at him, pressing both hands down on the desk and rising in her seat slightly.

“I’m sure your back approves. Mine would approve of not sleeping in a cell you know,.” Alistair informed her pointedly.

“Take him away. I’ve seen what I needed!” she ordered the guards, turning away with a flick of her hand.

It was over already? “Are you sure? Here I thought we could become friendly,” he called after her as she walked out the door with a last “Out!” in his direction.

 

 

When Zev and Kitten came back from scouting and announced that the house was full of men in fancy Orlesian armor, Torania was honestly taken aback.  To her knowledge relations with the Empress were cordial. Could this be a rogue faction? Surely a band of regular mercenaries would not wear entirely Orlesian armor… unless it was for some purpose?  It had to be on purpose right? The kidnappers had had nothing identifying on them after all. So was the culprit trying to lead her astray? Or sending her a message?

“Could any of them be chevaliers?” Torania bit her lip thoughtfully. She did want to try herself against a chevalier, though perhaps not in this number.

“It is possible," Leliana hesitated, “but if so they will tell us nothing. And chevaliers follow orders. Someone would have to have appealed to their honor. They are elite. This fight will not be easy. If there are any in there that is.”

“We need to try to even the odds. It might be the only way we stand a chance." Torania thought frantically, eyeing the chateau.

In the end Zevran, Kitten, and Leliana entered through the upper windows to kill as many as possible before the alarm could be raised.  That was the only semblance of a plan that could be accomplished. Well, that and blowing the door off its hinges.

 

 

Leliana, Zev and Kitten would never agree on who  first slipped up and let the alarm be raised. However, when a face appeared at one of the windows as if to check for attackers, Torania grinned up at them and rushed forward with Finn and Ariane to the door.  The mage focused his energy and a fireball formed, blowing the door inward off its hinges.

A few of the men had been standing on the other side and the smell of burnt flesh wafted up to Torania’s nose as she stepped inside.

“I think I’m going to be sick.” Finn was careful to avoid the burnt corpses.

Privately Torania agreed with him but there was no way she was going to say that aloud.

“Ah,” she reached out a hand blocking the progress of the mage who was standing beside her. Three foes ran into the room in front of them, no doubt they were trying to find the source of the fireball’s noise. “Company.”

Softly, as Arianne rushed to engage a few men who rushed in from the side, Torania continued to Finn. “Stay back and preserve your mana. I have a feeling we're going to need as much healing as you can give.”  As the mage fell back Torania took a few steps forward holding her dagger and sword before her. “I’ve never fought a chevalier before. Tell me are they as formidable as rumor claims? That is if you are one of course.” Three men she thought. She could handle that.

“You’ll have to judge and tell us when you watch your lifeblood spilling out on the ground.” The middle chevalier tensed his eyes giving his intention away. Torania moved to dodge an incoming blade, and it was only her skill that allowed her to switch direction and miss skewering herself.

The blade was not where the man’s eyes and body implied it should be, but where she had intended to dodge. She looked up at the man with new respect. This was an opponent whose signals were misleading. Torania had met many warriors who could move so fast after their signals that they scarcely gave her any time to respond. She had not met many however that could make their body completely mislead an opponent. Normally she would be grinning. Now with her husband on the line this was an added inconvenience.

The other two men came in now. How nice of them to wait while the one in the middle did his thing. Torania ducked under the blades quickly and rammed the pommel of her dragon bone sword into the armor that covered one of the chevaliers kneecaps. He stumbled back, but she was unable to press her advantage as his two fellows moved to cover him. One bought his blade down towards her in a sweeping arc as if to cut her in half.  She quickly moved to the side standing up to see the tricky chevalier's blade coming down on her. Just as was to be expected really. She brought her sword up to meet it with a clash. It was not an optimal position for her but it did not need to be. Her muscles groaned as he brought his superior strength down on her. Then he stepped back disengaging as he noticed her dagger coming at him with her other hand. The tricky chevalier however (consider if “however” is needed) then made his crucial mistake.

“Sad your husband can’t make it. I hear he’s rather indisposed.”

Cold furry radiated through Torania. The look in her eyes when she looked at her opponent actually made the chevalier take a step back. Torania threw herself into the fight, anger giving her added speed and masking any signals her body might give. He was no longer fighting a woman the chevalier thought, he was fighting a monster. Torania’s dagger came at them like a snake. Finding every single weakness in their guard and ripping it open to go in for the kill. Her sword became an extension of her arm. A particularly sharp deadly extension. She was a blur of movement. Finally, one of his fellows dead blood still spurting from the gap between his helmet and body armor, the other pierced through the side making low groaning sounds, and himself unarmed with a nasty gash on the seam  of the armor on his leg,  the demoness -he was calling her that now- shoved him against a wall. Her dagger nipped at his exposed throat as she looked at him with those furious, furious eyes. A trail of chevalier blood ran down the side of her face and she hissed three words to the man she held prisoner.

“Where. is. Alistair.”

The chevalier loudly drew in saliva to spit in her face. She cut his throat before it left his mouth.  As he slid to the ground against the wall, she turned around to find Finn staring.

“Let's go.” She strode forward into a hallway before the mage had a chance to reply.

“You know generally when you ask someone something you wait for them to respond!” Finn called after her. “It's basic politeness.  You are noble born. Aren’t you supposed to know all that?”

“There should be more,” Ariane spoke from her side “They should be swarming us.”  She peered into each of the rooms off the hallway. “What are they playing at?”

“Thanks for the input Finn. I value and cherish your advice. Oh, no problem Torania. I only came all the way here at your request.” The mage mimicked and complained.

Suddenly Torania rounded on the mage and warrior. “You have to go to the others! The majority of the badies must have rushed up to them when they realized there were intruders. Either that or they are down guarding Alistair. If that is the case and the others are not overwhelmed, come back down to me. Go!”  Torania watched the mage run off to a side staircase for a moment then took the last few steps to the end of the hall, which had begun to gently slope downwards, and pulled the door open.

 

 

Seven enemies, that was how Torania knew she was in trouble.  She entered a round undercroft  after going down a spiral stairway. She stood on a dais. Below her there were seven people and a locked door. This was not good. Not counting mages and their area of effect attacks, the greatest warrior on Thedas, whoever he or she might be, would not be able to fight more than eight people at once, no matter how superior their skill level to that of their foes. The man at arms who had performed her basic combat training had told her that. The mind was not meant to handle even that many.

Torania swallowed. To face seven elite warriors, all at once, on her own. This was folly. Torania might love a good fight, but one she could win was the general idea. For Alistair’s sake, running or waiting was not an option, In the wake of an attack they might just kill her husband if she gave them time.

Torania did not intend to give them time.

Immediately the queen. let herself stumble a bit. Her hand went to her stomach, and she took a limping step forward. Who was to know the chevalier blood splattering her leathers did not belong to her.  Torania was frightened. That realization shocked her. It was not what she was used to feeling about a fight. Eagerness yes, excitement yes, annoyance if things got tedious for sure, but not fear. There were two archers among the seven, one on either side of the group. Blissfully, mercifully, they did not have their bows drawn. Their mistake. Torania made herself pant as she stumbled to the railing that warded off the edge of the dias.

“Give me my husband.” She let her voice shake, intent on fooling them. _Make them think she was not a threat any longer._

“We have no reason to do that.” It was one of the men in heavy chevalier armor in the middle who answered.

Torania looked for any specifics that made him stand out from the others, so she would be able to spot him later. It would likely be important for her to be able to spot the leader. There was nothing. Nothing other than a ring  which would be hard to spot mid battle.

Abandoning the pretense of injury, Torania leapt over the dias’s railing in one smooth moment. The redhead landed on her feet down below, far enough back that she would not land on the Orlesian’s swords if they struck them out to skewer her as she came from above. Torania knew she was fast, but she also knew that these were some of the Orlesian empire’s elite. They would be going for their weapons at the same time a darkspawn would still be processing what had just happened.

Putting on a burst of speed as the chevaliers and bards went for their weapons, she lunged forward, her knife slicing across the throat of one of the archers. As the archer fell to the floor she positioned herself so that the next chevalier was squarely between her and the other man with a bow. She could not let them gang up on her. But she had to keep one between her and that other archer at all times.  

Her opponents were almost recovered from their shock now. Torania desperately threw herself at the chevalier she was using as a shield, hoping to use that last moment of uncertainty on their part to her advantage. His weapon was up in time to meet her own, but he was slightly off balance from her quickness still.  She whipped her dagger around in a lightning fast jab, but the chevalier managed to lean back and avoid it.

The others were rushing at her now and she was forced to fall back a bit. Torania shifted from one foot to another. If only it was not for the stupid archer! This fight would be much more manageable if she did not have to keep one of them between her and them at all times.

“Give up,” one of the men shouted at her. “We’ve got you outnumbered and outmatched.”

“ _Outnumbered, yes..._ ” Torania took a few steps to the side, careful to keep her opponents in front of her as some tried to double around behind, “but _you don’t know_ me” .

The queen remained in constant motion trying to keep an eye on both the archer and the chevaliers at once. Abruptly she darted in, lashing out at one before pulling back. Nothing. These men were too good to fall to a haphazard blow The kind one could pull out of. No. she was going to have to let herself get hit.  

Torania lashed out again but this time putting a step behind it and then another as she propelled her body forward. She caught one of the chevalier's blades with her sword and jabbed her dagger into the gap in another's armor underneath his armpit, severing an artery as she ducked under his blow. A sword swung at her from her left and she twisted her body to duck under the blow before twisting again to avoid another. Her sword disengaged from the first chevalier and she assumed ready position as the chevalier she had stabbed fell. Then she went in again for the attack.

Four chevaliers and an archer left.

All four rushed her at once. She tried to evade them, men in armor could be agile yes. But she trained to be agile. She threw herself out of their way at the last moment twisting backward and under.  The one on the side closest to her swept his blade at her in a desperate arc as he saw her pull out of the way of the charge at the last moment. Torania was behind them all now and she lunged. Stabbing her sword into the neck of the chevalier who had sweaped his blade at her, even as she cried out in pain as an arrow struck her shoulder. _Damn the archer._

She flexed her fingers as her three remained chevaliers regrouped. Good, she could move everything. The Queen stepped backward as the archer drew another arrow and the chevaliers moved forward, away from the wall, letting her slip around so they were between her and the archer in the nick of time. Sweat poured into her eyes as she surveyed her remaining opponents.

They came at her cautiously this time. Learning from their mistake. Torania ignored the pain in her shoulder as she made a feint, jabbing in at one then making a stab at another. She was blocked on both accounts. Her blade clashed with theirs a few times and she could feel them herding her back into the wall. Torania panted and managed to hook her leg around one knocking him off balance while he was focused on her sword. It was a risky move and sure enough as she took advantage of his weakness to stab him in the throat she felt a blade slash her side. She would just have to count on the high dragon hide to keep it from going too deep.

Two left. Everyone was getting sloppy. Torania blinked sweat away blocking the sword swings of the two remaining chevaliers. These two seemed better at working in tandem and Torania felt her back hit the wall. They were smart enough to still be wary.

She called forth a picture of her husband in her mind.

“Maker help me...” The queen ignored the pain. She ignored her screaming muscles and ducked under and between one of the chevaliers legs in one smooth move. Her dagger plunged up into the flap most suits of armor left for their wearers necessary bodily functions. The chevalier’s greatsword, which he had been attempting to bring down upon her as she rushed at him, stopped in its downward arc. It could not fit between its bearers legs. The chevalier swore and fell to the ground howling. Torania stabbed him and dodged as the other one tried to attack her. But not fast enough. As she moved to get behind him again she felt his sword slice her arm. She heard rather than felt her dagger drop from her grasp. Her arm was a dead weight at her side. Torania saw the archer preparing to fire. She took a risk. Dropping her weapon and grabbing the other chevelair, she yanked him him in the way of the arrow before dancing out of the way and picking up her blade. The last chevelair went down, the arrow straight through his neck

“Thank you Maker.” Torania turned to the archer who was desperately stringing another arrow. Torania threw herself at the woman and felt the archer shudder as her blade went though the other woman's heart.

The queen stood there panting, bleeding, gasping for breath. With her good arm she tore of some cloth and bandaged her wounds. Thankfully they had not hit anything vital to keeping her alive. She hurt like the void but Torania would endure a whole lot more for Alistair.

She searched the fallen soldiers for the keys to the door and finally found them on the chevalier she had suspected to be the leader. Trembling, Torania unlocked the door and opened it with a smile, rushing inside ready to embrace her husband.

"Alistair...” The Queen fell to her knees. Her entire body trembled. A strangled sound escaped her lips. “ _No..._ ” The cell was occupied not by the King of Ferelden, but by a single object belonging to him. Duncan’s Shield

 

 

“It is the game. I am so sorry.” Leliana looked down at the Warden Queen “You do not deserve this.”

Torania looked rather shell shocked. Blue magic from Finn's hands streamed over her, healing the damage she had taken in the fight. Torania was completely indifferent to the relief pouring through her body. Not even her face changed.

“Are you sure they did not do something to her head? Besides the mind games I mean,” Zevran asked the mage. Torania spoke before Finn could reply

“I'm going to murder them.” The queen started shaking in rage “I'm going to tear those bloody fiends throats out! Maybe I'll make it slow. Cut their fingers off one by one...”

“Ah, there we go," Zevran nodded. “Glad to see she is still sane."

Will you really do that? With the fingers... that's just...”. Ariane broke off and was suddenly very happy the others were coming along. Maybe they stop the grief struck queen before she showed just how far she could go.

Torania just looked at the Shield. They were playing with her. Part of her was mad, furious, part of her was just frantically worried. She looked up, tear tracks on her face. “How many ingredients were in that poison!? Do we track all of them!? They’ll keep playing with us! Do we follow every single one of them!?”  She cradled the item to her chest. How would Alistair be by the time they had found him? She tried to wipe her face desperately. Hide the tears. She was mortified that they would see her like this.  

“Yes,” Leliana gave her the answer from her side as she tucked some hair behind her ear, “We do what we must. Our journey has just begun but for now I am thinking about these chevaliers,” Leliana confessed.

“About the feathers? I’ve never seen such large fathers!” Ariane enthused, possibly trying to lighten the mood. “You all wear such funny things!”

“I want one!” Kitten agreed

“Zevran can I have a chevalier feather to keep?” the large eared elf begged, every inch a child pleading with their father.

Zevran could not keep the twitch of a smile from his face as his apprentice pleaded with him. “Oh very well Kitten, if you are good you can have a chevalier feather”

“What If I am bad?” Kitten asked.

“Well that would depend entirely on if you get away with it.”

The monkey poked her head out from under the teenaged elf’s hair, making a screeching sound.  “Ooa says she wants one too,” Kitten informed her master.

“Ooa can have one if she stops trying to steal from my private stores. Yes! I saw those missing nuts!”

“I was thinking,” Leliana continued, “That we should perhaps think about how and why such Orlesian soldiers came to be here.”

“Someone built a chateau in the Frostbacks. An Orlesian chateau in OUR Frostbacks…” Torania growled. Then as if that was not bad enough, they had used it to hurt her and her husband. They would pay, oh Maker they would pay. But... Leliana had a point “These Orlesians… they can’t just have marched through Ferelden in chevalier armor….”

“Exactly,” Leliana nodded in approval, “most likely they came here disguised as normal civilians then donned the armor,"

“Which means…” Zevran finished, “someone went to a lot of trouble to point out their Orleasianness.”

“The people that kidnapped Alistair, they had nothing to distinguish themselves, so why change!?” Torania asked bitterly before answering her own question. “It’s another game and the clue here is Orlais”

It was then that Torania realized... truly and utterly realized... that she was playing a game of cat and mouse with her husband as the bait.


	5. The Dalish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Torania seeks aid from Ariane's clan. Ariane has troubles she has told no one that need to be dealt with first.

 

“It seems your woman, and some associates slaughtered an entire chateau of my men” The finely dressed Orlesian woman from before stood across a desk from him, her hands braced on the wooden structure, her eyes locked on his own.

Alistair met the her eyes head on. “My wife tends to do that when you upset her,” he warned.

“I left her your shield as a token.”  The woman smiled slyly steepling her fingers.

The smile slipped from his face. _Oh Tori._ He could just imagine her finding it. “Why are you even doing this!?” he demanded, suddenly angry, “This cliché rawr rawr villain act? Not good for the wrinkles I imagine.”

“You don’t even understand what you did to me!” she suddenly snapped slamming a hand on the desk so hard the contents jumped.

“I’ve never even met you! Have I met you? If I did something I’m sorry. I can make it up to you! Just let me go and…”

She turned to him and for the first time Alistair saw real pain in her eyes. Not evil villain pain, but the type of pain that made him feel sorry for her, despite the fact that he was tied to a chair for her to torment as she saw fit.

“It’s too late.”  Her voice was breathy now; her eyes misty. “It’s much too late for that.” Then her eyes hardened again. “Take him back,” she ordered the men at the door.

“Wait!” Alistair called “Wait! At least… What is your name?”

She looked at him and the burning hatred was back.  “Margurite Dufayel.”

 

 

 

“You mean to tell me…” Torania’s voice was dangerously calm, “you spent the entire time we were gone piecing together another ingredient only to find… THAT IT WAS BLOODY ELFROOT!? THERE IS ELFROOT EVERYWHERE! THIS TELLS US BLOODY NOTHING!” The queen grabbed a pot and threw it across the room, before taking several deep heaving breaths. “Alright I’m ok… Everything is ok,"

“Actually, I just wanted to see how on edge you were," Agata informed her. “There is another rare ingredient.”

“No.” Torania felt like she might punch the healer. “We need to make this go faster. If there are many ingredients we need to be able to find the ones that lead to the most likely places to look."  

Torania clasped her hands behind her back pacing. She knew they had no access to Ines Darcia, the renowned botanist, but what about the Dalish?”

The redhead whirled on Ariane. “Your people!  Do you know where your people will be!?” It never occurred to Torania that the Dalish might refuse. They might want something in return of course, but she was confident of their aid. Better yet, Torania and Alistair had shown themselves to be friends to the Dalish people, or as much friends as human monarchs could be. The Dalish would have every reason to want to keep Alistair safe and on the throne, right?

“I think so yes…” Ariane’s ears twitched slightly. If there was hesitation in her voice Torania ignored or did not notice it.

 

The Korcari Wilds were as inhospitable as Torania remembered. Mud almost up to the knee if one stepped in the wrong area, wind that whistled eerily through the trees, and trees themselves that looked like they wanted to strangle you alive with grasping branches and dark ugly bark.

To Ariane however, she could tell this was home. The Dalish woman had a light in her eyes the Queen was all too familiar with as they entered the wilds. She walked with a purpose, barley checking her footing like the rest of them, pausing only to inspect signs no one else seemed able to see, and to yank Finn away from falling off the trail into the mud. Something he seemed deeply grateful for.

It was impossible to tell if they were getting closer to Ariane’s clan. The elf said they had roamed the outskirts of the wilds, and occasionally deeper in, ever since she could remember; occasionally clashing with Chasind or Templars. She even made cryptic statements about how Torania would not be the only Fereldan royalty to visit them in a time of need, according to clan tales.

When the elf stopped and turned to them, ears drooping, Torania could tell no difference between this bit of wilderness and the rest. Though that might mean nothing. Most of the Wilds looked the same to her.

“Before we go… on… there is something I need to tell you," Ariane confessed looking down at her feet for a moment  then back up.

The Queen was distinctly reminded of a time a few years ago, and a man saying the same thing. If she tells me she is a long lost princess, Torania noted dryly, I am going to jump ship… well no… I’ll probably laugh for a while before looking around awkwardly and realizing she was serious. Did the Dalish even have princesses? Torania didn’t think so.

“I’ve been…. avoiding my clan… “Ariane admitted, as she stood with her hands locked, elbows straight, behind her back. The brown haired woman paced before them as she spoke, her footsteps making dangerous squelching sounds on the ground. But then the elf seemed to have a gift for telling knowing what was an _about to give way and send you plummeting up to your pelvis in mud_ squelch, and a _can still support your weight a bit longer_ squelch. 

“Yes I thought as much," Finn nodded sagely in response to her original comment, fingers on his chin. “She even snuck the book we recovered back without anyone noticing.”

“I suppose I should give you a whole explanation?” Arianne added in a weak voice, finally stopping her pacing to turn to them.

“A whole explanation might do us all some good I think” Leliana commented. Torania could almost feel her crossing her arms and tilting her head to the side just behind her.

“ In my clan… the Talas,” Ariane began, pacing back and forth again, “I am the best hunter; the best warrior. I was taught by my father, Irosylis.  He was a greatly renowned swordsmen before he died. Our keeper Solan was my father’s best friend.” The words came out all in a rush. “My best friend is.. was.. Belavahn. Solan’s first. But he wanted something more.” She turned to face them, pausing to hold out a hand, the one bearing the ring she normally refused to let others inspect. Finn stepped forward reading. 

“Melahn Era'vunsha ajua suna,

Lana Aradir'vhen'an orlath ajua iseth suna,

Dialathene

If you are cold at night, let the promise of my love warm you like a blanket.”

The mage read the elvish and translated before frowning.  “Wait!  Does this mean you are betrothed?”

“Technically speaking, yes.” Ariane paced yet again. “I didn’t get much say in the matter. My mother and the Keeper arranged it when I did not accept any offers within four years of becoming an adult,"

“But you do not like this man?” Leliana inquired

“No! I love him! He’s handsome and smart and brave and has always been my best friend."

“Then what is the problem?”

“I don’t like him like that! I don’t like anyone like that… Just the thought of kissing and… tumbling around…. It repulses me!”  Her hands were moved through the air for emphasis.

As most of the party immediately turned to look at Finn, it was the mage’s turn to stare. “Wait you too!? I thought I was just strange…”

Torania stared at them both. How long?  How long had she thought she was broken inside before falling for Alistair?  How long had she wondered what was wrong with her because the idea of boys… or even girls… was a repulsive one?  How long had she planned to run away in order to avoid the inevitable arranged marriage and bedding, only to have circumstances torn from her just before she could carry out her plan when news of the blight came. Leave her home while it was vulnerable and might need her had not been an option after all.  And how long had she been blind to her own feelings because she thought she was incapable of having them?  Here was a woman like her… who had done it… who had run… though a woman perhaps without the turnaround… without the falling in the end, and, if what Finn said was true, he was even another.

In time Torania had decided that the Maker had made her not broken, but only able to fall for one man in the world. It had seemed the only thing to make sense. And perhaps it was true. But was it possible…. was it actually possible that the Maker made some people unable to fall for anyone… and that they were not broken?  Even as she thought it she realized the logic of it. The Maker made people who were able to fall for men, women, or both, so why not neither?  It was seemly obvious now.

She looked up. Torania could not just act to protect Ariane from this. The Dalish were a proud people. Their laws and traditions must be followed. “Is there a way to get you out of this?” she asked, “You don’t have to go with us.”

Leaning against a tree, Zevran drawled,  “I am no expert in Dalish laws and customs, of course, much less those unique to any clan. But there are some things I find that are the same no matter where you find yourself. Death and sex being the most notable ones but there are of course others. Messy situations of the heart… those can be found whether you are on say the Antivan streets or, I would be willing to wager a great deal of money, a Dalish clan.  Perhaps should say… another suitor appear…”  He flipped a dagger, locking his eyes on Finn.

Ariane also turned to gaze at the mage and started to smile, catching on quickly to what Zevran was proposing.  “Finn from now on we are formally engaged and desperately in love."

“What!?” The brown haired healer demanded.

 

The aravels of Clan Talas had thick wheels, Torania noted.  Probably so as to be able to move better over the marshy ground. She remembered a wonder Alistair had voiced once, if trees and other things just hopped out of the way as the dalish traveled in their caravans. Who knew in the end.  Had any humans ever seen the elves traveling? They must have.

It was time to be all queenly again. Some of it still felt like an act to be honest. Torania was learning and there were those who told her she had flashes of true political greatness. For the most part, however she still felt more at home on a battlefield.  She hoped she would fit better into her role in time.

Right!  Back ramrod straight, shoulders back, and head tilted only the tiniest bit up. Hands! What should she do with her hands when meeting these Dalish as Queen?  In the end she held them in front of her. A peaceful, calm gesture.

The first thing Torania noted when the scouts met them was that these looked more battle hardened then most of the Dalish she had seen. One had a scar along his face and the other, a girl, was heavily armed. Both looked like they did not know quite what to make of Torania’s group.

“Andaran atish’an," the scared one greeted them “This is… Ariane!?”

“Aneth ara lethallan," Ariane stepped forward amiably, “I have returned to the clan to formally introduce my betrothed,"

When both Dalish’s eyes immediately flashed to Zevran, Arianne had to pull Finn up beside her.

“Hello…”  The mage waved awkwardly as Ariane elbowed him. “I’ve never visited a Dalish camp before I have so much to look at!  Can I talk to your keeper!? This is so exciting! Ariane is Dalish, but she doesn’t know much about Dalish magic. There is so much for me to learn here!  Where the Somniari originally elven? Oh I suppose I’m getting ahead of myself. Nice to meet you.”

“HALLLAAAAA!!!” Kitten squealed and ran past the guards, down the small hill, into the Dalish camp, then past the aravals and the staring elves, and into the halla enclosure where she began stroking the creatures. Soon they were proudly showing off to her.

After that there was really no point to Queenly dignity, Torania noted. Still, she spoke to  the Dalish guards? Scouts?

“Greetings. I am Torania Cousland Theirin, Queen of Ferelden. I request permission for uh… _the rest of my party_ to enter your camp. I wish to speak to your keeper and I believe my companions have a bit of a tangle to work out.”

The two elven sentinels were already exchanging a look. “Follow us.”

The Talas Dalish were one of the clans that tried to avoid “civilized” humans when possible. Likely because their keeper Solan had stolen a book of lore from the Circle Tower as a youth in order to prove that he was the one worthy of being Clan First. Something that drew Templar ire and other clans awe to this day.

Living in the wilds they were often near the Chasind, and the two peoples occasionally clashed, but for the most part avoided each other.  The fact was however, that the Talas could hardly be classified as one of the peaceful Dalish clans. They did not conduct raids often, but they were known for their lack of caution.

While many clans blamed this on the clan’s Keeper, the fact was the clan had been turning out highly skilled hunters and warriors since long before his time. And they benefited from it. Every member of the clan had at least one item that was made from an insanely high quality material. Some were gifts such as Arianne’s helmet, given to try to woo an elf at the last Arlathvhen; others were crafted by the clan itself.

There were those who said the Talas would overreach themselves one day. Go too far. And then there would be blood. But for now at least, it seemed that was not the case.

The middle aged woman who was the first to run up to them after they entered the camp did not look like a fighter. Dressed in no armor, she was beautiful with eyes the color of the sky and dark tumbling hair just starting to grey.

“Ariane!” She called throwing her arms around the slightly taller elven woman. “Da'len! I knew Mythal would bring you back to me!”

“Mamae…” Arianne whispered as the woman hugged her, then she hugged her back deeply twirling her around before letting go and turning to Torania and Finn.  “This is my mother Lasilga,” the elven woman explained

Torania ached for Arianne. After all hadn’t they been in the same situation? Having to leave a family they loved because of the “duty” the family would push them into, never understanding it was one they could not do?

“Arianne came to tell you there is another who seeks her heart,” Torania offered. _Get it over with. That was the best way._

“What!?” Ariane’s mother looked to Zevran who was over with his apprentice near the halla, to Leliana who was speaking to the clan haran, and finally to Torania herself, eyes accusatory.

“Why do they keep doing that!?” Finn demanded. "I'm right here!"

“You?” The woman finally looked at Fin. “A shem!?”

Ariane awkwardly wrapped an arm around Finn in what she must have thought to be a romantic manner. Suddenly Torania realized she should have had Zevran and Leliana give them lessons.

“We are deeply in love! I love his… his…”

“My rugged good looks?” Finn suggested.

“Yes that!”

Shite… there is no bloody way she will fall for this, Torania thought to herself.

Fortunately it seemed the mother was too outraged to notice the lackluster performance.

“Belavahn! what about Belavahn?” Ariane’s mother demanded.

“I’m sorry Mamae I just don’t…” Ariane’s ears drooped.

Lasilga looked at her daughter. A great degree of communication seemed to pass silently between the two. “Perhaps if you’re new… love…. can prove himself before the Clan, you both can come back to visit from time to time,” she finally said.

“Right, just how do I prove myself?” Finn asked. Arianne was his best friend and traveling partner and he would definitely help her. But if it required something like eating bugs he would not be happy about it. Despite the fact that he had bothered to learn the Dalish language (among others) He didn't know much about their culture, and tower rumors cut deep.

“He will probably challenge you to a duel," Lasilga told him.

Belavahn was large for an elf, and good looking with bright green eyes and a ready smile; one that formed immediately when he saw Ariane. He ran up to her “Ariane! I knew you’d come back!” Torania noted the man’s eyes lingering on the elf’s body.

“I’ve come to tell you,” Arianne  ran a hand through her hair almost nervously,  “that I fell in love with Finn.”

Belavahn looked betrayed. “But but… I’m the one you grew up with. I’m the one who has always been there for you… and you want some stranger? A shem!?  No, no,”  he shook his head. “If he thinks he’s good enough for you he will have to prove it!  Fen'Harel ma ghilana!”

 

“Right, so overly entitled male friend aside, I’d say you should just tell the clan to sod off, but these are your family and we need their help," Torania spoke to the others when they finally found a moment to themselves sitting in the shadow of one of the aravals.

“Just how good is this Belavahn anyway?” Finn asked nervously.

“He won the Tournament of Firsts at the last Arlathvhen “

“Oh” the male mage said, “Wonderful. ” He sat down on a rock.

Ariane bit her lip as she rubbed the hilt of one of her swords with one hand. “We… could try talking to our Keeper. Solan is a wise man and you have to talk to him anyway!” She directed the last sentence at Torania

“So we tell him everything? About you?” Torania looked at Ariane, raising a brow.

The female elf hesitated. Torania could tell she was not truly sure this Keeper would listen. “My clan… It needs children. We fight a good amount… warriors die… and the blight…” She ran a hand down her face.

 

To find the Keeper Torania was directed to one of the aravals. Having never been inside one, she was not sure what she expected to find. The first thing she noted was that it belonged unmistakably to a mage. Dalish mages could not bring with them the multitude of strange odds and ends that normal mages brought of course. And she was pretty sure everything would have to be strapped down while traveling, but the walls of the araval were covered in charts written in Elvish. Chests could be found everywhere, and she was rather sure she smelled several herbs. Which meant something because Torania did not have the best nose.

Solan himself, she noticed, as he turned to look at her brows raised, had dark hair with silver streaks and a sharp pointed nose that made him look a bit bird like. His eyes were wide, alert, and inquisitive, and his lips slightly thin. He was good looking in an unusual way. And Torania could definitely see him as the type of man who could steal a book from the Tower library.

The other thing she noted was the man’s sense of presence. It seemed to shove against her as she got near him, trying to overwhelm her. So naturally Torania marched right up into him. “Greetings,” she addressed the elf.

His eyes were rife with suspicion as he looked at her. “Andaran atish’an. I hear you have come to return Ariane to us human.”

“Well no,” Torania answered. “Turns out she fell in love with a human actually, and so will be leaving.”

“What!?” He hissed.

Inwardly she groaned. Time to get formal. “Sir, my name is Torania Cousland Theirin. I am Queen of Ferelden. I know that my title does not mean much to the Dalish people but my husband and I have dealt as justly with them as our position enables us.  During the blight I gave aid to the Nilian clan and though I had a treaty then and lack one now, I beg you for the good of your people to aid me with your knowledge of plants in a matter crucial to the wellbeing of the King of my nation.” Should she bow? Should she kneel? Torania did neither.  They were equals and she would stand as an equal.

The Keeper looked at her for a long moment. “You are the hero of Ferelden then?”

“Yes” Torania answered shortly.

“You will fight the war leader of our clan. Should you win we shall help you. As for Arianne, custom is rather clear. In order for two elves to be matched they must be known to be competent in their  abilities. Ariane is competent. Belavahn is competent.  This outsider must prove their his competence. Ordinarily healing would do, but Belavahn has  informed me he has challenged Finn to a duel. I will talk to my first about his rashness but the duel stands and would be an excellent chance for this outsider to show what he is capable of."

 

To say Ariane was not pleased when Torania got back would be an understatement. “Myathash’panathe. Both of you have to fight in a Myathash’panathe? What about me!? I am the one this is about!” She held her hands up as if to plead with the air as she paced.

“He said we have to prove ourselves… and so we will,” Torania assured her. The Queen of Ferelden was sitting cross-legged on a bedroll in the guest tent

“Eol’gonun Proving your skill… “ Arianne paused and looked at Torania. “The weapons will be blunted but our war leader is still good. He once took on three Templars and a bear.”

“Wait, a bear?” Torania tilted her head to the side as she absently smoothed the bedroll next to her with the flat of her hand. She wondered what templars were doing with a bear.

“It was a magical bear,” Ariane assured her before starting to pace again.

“So this First…” Finn interjected. “He will be trained in traditional Keeper magic right?” The mage seemed both nervous and excited  to see the style up close as he tried to focus on inspecting a piece of elvish magic he had acquired somewhere in camp.

“Belavahn excels at it," Ariane told him

“And I have to win?” Finn asked, his hands passing over the object with a slight glow.

“No, you probably just have to prove you are competent enough for them. But try to win.”

“So this is not a real duel then?” Torania asked. She leaned back, bracing herself on her hands

“No, for you I’d say win. You are a legend.  You have to live up to it!”  Ariane paused, “The weapons will be blunted but watch for the non-sharp ends, he likes them a bit too much.”

“Trust me," the Queen assured her. “They’ll never know what hit 'em."

 

They stood inside a circle formed by the observing elves. The ground here was almost solid Torania noticed. Probably why they had chosen it for the fight.  Her opponent was a male elf with long sandy blond hair pulled back into a tight bun, which was good for him.  She might have tried to grab it otherwise.  There were no scars on his body. That’s what started the alarm bells ringing. Torania had next to no scares. But she had been around healers almost all her life. A war leader for a group of Dalish who were known for their combat abilities should have scars.

“As the one challenged you get to choose your weapon… however… it can only be one weapon," the elf told her as he started to bounce on the balls of his feet, knees bent.

This made her pause. Torania’s preferred fighting style was with a longsword and a dagger. “A longsword then,” she decided. One was thrust into her hand. It was a worn down blunted blade. _Well of course,_ she thought. This is a perfect way to recycle ones weapons not fit for combat.  As she faced her opponent, black eyes alert, he nodded again.

“It is traditional for you to start the match shemlen. Just say the word ‘ena’”

“Ena,” she told him.

The elf moved quicker than any opponent she had ever fought. His limbs a blur, they locked blades. Then his was moving downwards taking advantage of the position to strike at her head like lightning. She moved her blade to the side, taking his with it so that the blade was no longer in line with her head. Then the side of her face exploded in pain. The elf had switched to a two handed grip and stepped inwards dealing a pommel strike. She blocked the follow up cut meant to finish the duel, ignoring the pain, and saw his eyes widen in surprise.

Respectfully they circled each other, blades at the ready, watching for the slightest movements that might indicate the other was about to strike, though Torania was fairly sure both were at the skill level at which they would be able to hide their tells.

She opened her mouth forcing herself not to wince at the pain and spitting a mouthful of blood to the side before informing the man, “I’m going to win.”  Her eyes never left his body and his never left hers.

“Perhaps, but even if you do win, one day there will be a fight you cannot. You have miscalculated here already. You cannot afford to keep doing so. You are skilled. Perhaps from what I have heard and what you show today you are the best. But everyone has limits. Even the best.”  He struck out and Torania parried his blow. Like she had thought no tells.

“I know I have limits,” she informed him as they moved apart again.

“You love battle. I can see it in your eyes. You love a challenge. Your nature is a dangerous one. You are like Andruil and one day you will go too far.  What is to stop you from losing yourself?  What is to make your story any different?”

Torania did not even miss a beat in giving her response, “My husband.” She brought her blade around in an upward feint then a low jab to punctuate the remark.

“You think having a husband would have stopped Andruil?”  Torania could practically hear his eyebrows rising though she kept her eyes on his torso.

“No, I think that having my husband has made me better. The happiness brought to me by battle, while you may have a point, cannot compare to the happiness brought to me by him. Therefore your observation is invalid.”

“Perhaps," he replied, “but remember my warning. Sooner or later everyone loses. Be prepared when you do."

Abruptly both the elf and the human lunged forward.  This time as they locked blades Torania went in for the head strike and the elf moved the blade away from his head. She followed up as he had with the pommel strike.  He blocked, moving his blade vertically in front of himself to defend against the blow. She could see it in his eyes.

“Surely you did not think to get me with my own technique? “

 _No. no, She hadn’t._ In one smooth movement Torania dropped her own blade stepping a foot on it, as she grabbed his blade which was held so obligingly in front of her In an upside-down death hold. Without pausing Torania twisted around using her entire body weight and superior grip to twist the elves arms and pry the long sword from his grasp.

Panting, she stood in the middle of the circle, strands of deep red hair flying free from their ponytails  Then slowly, a smile formed on the Queen’s face. “Nailed it.”

 

As the blue magic of the keeper’s spell healed her face Torania let out the slightest sigh of relief. Then she gritted her teeth.  Her opponent had been right; she had been sloppy.

And at this rate she would lose eventually.

In the Queen there was a need. An odd urge to fight. To push her body to its very limits against some sort of foe was a type of ecstasy.  Dragons. She liked dragons the best. And Torania was good.

She had not always been that way of course. She had started combat training at the age of four like most nobles, and at that age she was determined to be the greatest hero Ferelden ever saw. She had been able to do the warm up stretches better than her instructor and had thought he has the warrior thing down.  

Then they gave her a wooden sword and a shield,  as befitting a noble Cousland. And she spent most of her first lesson in the mud. While her brother Fergus was a naturally talented warrior Torania just was not. But she had been determined. She spent the next eight years waking at the crack of dawn to go out and practice until her muscles screamed, and then when they were screaming in pain she ignored them and kept at it because she WOULD be a bloody warrior!  Everyone but her father  told her she would never be a great warrior. The practice only made her descent. Nowhere near skilled enough to reach her goal of beating her brother.

She had been twelve when she had an epiphany; there were aspects of fighting she was good at. She was uncannily flexible, beyond that of anyone she knew. She had very fast reflexes and reaction time,  both honed by training with a mabari, and was the fastest person in Highever when not encumbered by heavy armor and a shield.

She had decided to work with what she had to develop her own fighting style. One that played to her strengths and was unique to her and only her. Over the years she had trained her speed and reaction time to be faster and faster. She trained her balance to be insurmountably  good.

She started fighting with a dagger and sword. She had heard of criminals doing this and she thought it would work for her. Torania had trained with acrobats and one man she thought was a criminal before he vanished. Eventually she went back to the master at arms to train her, working with her unique fighting style. She even managed to build up some visibly buff muscle, but not as much as most warriors.

It was not until a week before news of the blight came that she managed to defeat her brother, a man who was skilled enough to survive in the Korcari Wilds during the blight. During the blight Torania got better and better. After all no practice could match real combat.  By now no one she knew could beat her in one-on-one combat. But she did not start out that way. She had worked her arse off for it. Even when it came to the elements of fighting she was good at, with the exception of flexibility possibly, she worked her arse off to improve them.

Torania was uncannily good. But perhaps uncannily good was not good enough for her life style. Perhaps she had to focus on something more. As she sat on a rock Torania started to think. The Queen’s mind raced through possibilities and ideas.

What Torania needed, she decided, was an even more unique combat style. One that focused even more on not getting injured while finishing off the enemy as quickly as possible. It would take time of course. But if she were to use her unique flexibility to say… dodge… in unconventional ways… ones her enemies would not expect her to be able to pull off… and what if she were to use such a tactic to get close to them and dodge their blade while not blocking or moving back, thus leaving her blade free to hit them… it was something to think about at least. This would take practice. More than she had time for while looking for her husband.

 

The mages stood across from each other in the same circle Torania had fought her duel in, not minutes before. Torania could see the nervous sweat on Finn’s face. It matched the same sweat on Ariane’s This must be hardest for her. She knew and cared about both men. The keeper started this match, calling out the word “Ena” in a crisp cool voice.

Immediately Finn lifted his staff swathing himself in green light that Torania knew to be the rock armor spell. Probably a good tactic because Belavahn reached his hands out, palms out gathering  teal light before clenching them as roots sprung from the ground to attack Finn. Though they dealt no damage, bouncing off his now stone hard skin, the mage was thrown backward off his feet. As he fell Torania saw Finn try to cast a mind blast, but the First just shrugged it off moving to press his advantage. Abruptly however, Belavahn was also thrown back by a glyph of repulsion Finn had cast earlier.   

Belavahn lifted his legs off the ground, his body curling up surrounded by white magical energy before stretching out, releasing a spell that called giant roots from the ground. As they soared toward Finn he managed to cast stone armor again before they impaled him. Wide eyed, the mage cast petrify on the First freezing him  in place before following up with  stone fist to finish the fight.   _And that,_ Torania thought, _was that._

 

Torania entered the Keeper’s araval with her hands behind her back. _Try not to look too proud,_ she told herself. “I need one of your experts on plants to come back with me for a period of time,” she told Solan

The Keeper looked at her and for split second. Torania thought he might refuse. It was hard to read the man’s face. “You may take my Second, Dheamanras," he informed her. “Sending my first would no doubt lead to undue tension. But tell me one thing. Does Ariane really love this… Finn? Or does she just wish to leave? You can tell me now. Either way he has proven worthy and there will be no difficulties.”

Torania’s mind raced. Should she tell him? Was this a trick? Did he seem like the kind of person who would play this kind of trick? Then again the people who seemed like it were not always the ones who did. In the end she went for the safe answer. “I would ask her not me, you know. This is about her after all.”

“And no doubt she would have fought both these battles herself if she could get away with it," The keeper nodded as he said the words

“Very well, I will inform my second he will be heading back with you. Take good care of him. “


	6. White River

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With the aid of The Second from Ariane’s Clan an ingredient is discovered that points to White River Bannorn

 

It was rather boring to play I Spy in his cell. It was also rather boring to try to count all the stones in the walls. Eventually Alistair fell back to Templar mind training exercises and working his muscles to try to stay fit. Thankfully the lady did let him take a bath eventually. Even Alistair knew he was growing rather ripe.

Of course he worried about Torania. It was not battle he worried about…. Alright he worried about that but not too much. What he worried about was how she was doing. She was such a strong woman. But weak at the same time somehow. She needed him. Just like he needed her. She would never leave him because she needed him. Others would leave him… but not her. He was not worried about her giving up on him. Maker knew she was a stubborn thing. He was worried about her crying at night without him there to hold  her . 

He was worried for how scared she would be. She had lost her family. Now she would be afraid of losing him as well. He was worried about how she would not show it. With anyone but him she tried to be nothing but strong, not showing her own inner insecurity.

And he wanted her with him. To tell him he was worthwhile. That he was special. Was that selfish?  He didn’t know. He just wanted her. Alistair wanted his wife, her red hair, her small muscled body, and the little squeak and laugh she gave when he kissed her.  Alistair wanted Torania. Was it bad to hope she wanted him as well?

 

Dheamanras was a male elf with dark brown hair and intense emerald-grey eyes. Torania noted the layer of green under his nails with satisfaction. This was an elf who regularly worked with plants.

“Andaran atish’an  gon’ena'sal'in enaste’elan,” he greeted Torania eagerly. “I have been sent to aid you with your herb related troubles!” 

But Torania had seen the figure approaching over his shoulder.  _ Belavahn _ . “Ariane? she prompted.

The female dalish elf turned and scowled before marching up to the First.

“Well what did you want!? That was some Etunash you pulled Vara u’em.”

The male elf held up his hands.  “Ahnsul Ariane?! Sathan hartha Madirth”

__ “Vyn esaya gera assan i’mar’av’ingala. Pala adahl’en,” she shot back with a snarl.

“Ir abelas! Ar dianem isolas!” he pleaded.  

“Vyn dianem Idelavir!” she snapped back. “You were filled with stupid!”

“I know and I’m sorry.” He stitched back to the King's tongue abruptly. “I love you Arianne and I always have since we were small. And if you can’t love me back the same way I don’t want that to mean that we have to stop being close completely.” 

“You tried to kill Finn! You were going to force me to have you!”

Finn himself opened his mouth to cut in and Torania covered it with her hand.

“It was a duel, Ariane besides, he’s still alive! And we were fated!” Belavahn retorted.

Seemingly forgetting she had covered the mage's mouth to stop him from cutting in Torania spoke herself. “This is the part where you get mad and break his nose, at least for me it is.”

When Ariane looked like she might consider the option the male elf turned and walked away. “Dareth shiral.”

 

“They called him my nas’fallon,” Ariane told them in camp, sitting by the fire. “My soul mate. That does not have to be romantic for elves you know.” For once she had not gone out to hunt. “We were inseparable as children, always getting into mischief, always playing some prank.” Her mouth tilted up into a hint of a fond smile then she looked down at the promise ring she was playing with in her fingers. “We both defended the clan together side by side.  I remember one time a Templar attacked the Keeper. I took his bracers and Belavahn took his helmet… But when I started to fill out he started to look at me… I asked him to stop and he wouldn’t!  It was like he thought he was entitled because we were so close. I tried to ignore it and it just got worse. He never touched me and he denied it… Then the ring… Perhaps they were wrong… Perhaps he was not my nas’fallon afterall.” She hesitated. Torania could see she was debating throwing it. Casting it out into the muddy depths of the wilds where it could disappear. Forever.

In the Circle when I was an apprentice,” Finn spoke up unexpectedly, “I had a friend, an apprentice a year above me. Her name was Vera. She was… brilliant. And looked out for me when I was still getting used to things in the tower. I needed looking after. I was rather awkward and pathetic as a child. On the night before her harrowing she gave me her memory band.” He held out his hand to show off a ring “I think she knew. The next day no one would talk about her. It was like she had never existed… she failed... her harrowing.”

Torania looked at Zevran and Leliana but both kept quiet. She could see the moonlight reflecting off their faces, both so still, hiding the secrets the kept within. Her turn to join the conversation then.

“I had a best friend growing up.” Torania drew her knees up to her chest. “His name was Dillian. I was a bit… intense as a child and I think he was the only person that could put up with me… not very reassuring… Anyway it turned out he had magic… and later that magic lead to blood magic because his parents found out and were going to send him to the Tower. He wanted to stay you see.” She told them the basics. There was no need for them to know why he wanted to stay so badly. To be with her... "I suppose the point is…. None of these people, the things that happened, broke us, right?” She looked at all of them. “or they did but not for good...” Torania Paused. 

“You both found each other, right?” It was her attempt at being comforting. She shifted her weight moving onto her knees. “And I  _ will _ find my husband.”

 

As a traveling companion Dheamanras seemed determined to charm the entire party. So much so that as Torania was standing watch one night she was rather sure she saw him coming out of Zevran’s tent.  Though Torania was quite sure Kitten had no romantic relations with her master, the act of sleeping with him seemed to earn him eternal enmity from both Kitten and her monkey.

It became rather common to see the dalish mage helping animals out of his bedroll while Kitten stood nearby looking rather put out at his lack of response to their intrusion. Once the Antivan elf seemed to grasp the concept that her victim was Dalish and that having surprise nighttime companions might not be the new experience she hoped it would, the pranks escalated, culminating in the Dalish elf’s hair somehow turning bright blue.

As for Leliana, he spent time telling her stories of the Dalish. Ariane commented to Torania that Dheamanras  had at one point considered becoming a Haran, before his magic showed. Finn and the Second spent a good deal of time talking about dalish magic, using words no one else could understand. Until Kitten declared they were being too boring and threw her monkey at them.  The only person besides Arianne that he seemed to be unable to sweet talk was Torania.

 

 

“Soooo sweet Tori…” The elf drawled his arms behind his head as they were passing South Reach.

She rounded on him, a snarl leaving her lips as a few stray strands of hair blew over her face.  “What did you just call me!?” the queen demanded.

“Oooh I see. Strong Tori, tough Tori!” the elf tried to appease her. “She don’t need no man!”  The Queen’s face turned a rather impressive shade of red. She looked like she might strangle him.

“I uh… I just heard it… somewhere.” The elf backed off, ears straight upright, looking from side to side quickly.

“You do not get to call me Tori!” Torania jabbed a finger at the other man’s chest.  “Only my friends call me Tori, and my husband of course, and certainly not sweet Tori!  I am not sweet!” She was yelling now and the elf had quickly realized his mistake. 

 

 

As they approached the capital city ,the first thing that came into sight was the tall tower of Fort Drakon. It rose above everything making even a lighthouse unnecessary for the Ferelden capital.  Like any Fereldan city Denerim had been built around a keep, but unlike other cities Denerim was unique in that the entire city had been carved into a mountain face. This was of course making rebuilding after the blight rather slow, but the city was being rebuilt at a steady rate. A testament to Ferelden stubbornness considering the city had been originally built over centuries. 

The sounds of construction could be heard as they entered through the main gate. Dheamanras grew wide-eyed . As they crossed the Drakon River, which ran through the city, and the inns to the south of the gate the elf blinked more.

“So many humans. Do they all live together like this? Does it always smell like dog?” He began asking questions.

 

The sight of the Queen coming and going was not an unusual one. And this was hardly a big visit. The elves however received some stares. As Torania led them from the stone streets to the muddy ones. Dheamanras gawped at the Landsmeet chamber and then the royal palace. Torania did not begin to feel pity for the boy until they reached the palace.

Agata looked at the dalish elf as if he were a bug to squash. “So boy, you think you know herbs?” The witch was sitting on a stool propping her elbow up on the table beside her.

“Yes ma’am!” Dheamanras replied cheerily, adding what Torania could only assume was a dalish gesture of greeting.

Slowly the female healer smiled and Torania could feel her blood turn cold. _Uh-oh._  Agata nodded then walked up to the dalish man dumping the contents of a jar on top of his head.  

To his stunned face she said with a smile, “That is a mixture of royal rashvine nettle and weepers heart. My makeshift laboratory and herb stores are over there. If you are as good as you say you’ll be able to go give yourself the antidote now won’t you? Otherwise we can all be entertained by your screaming and flailing... Don’t worry” she added,  “It’s not lethal.” 

Looking rather pleased with herself the witch turned to the Queen. 

“If you ever try that on me… let’s just way it won’t go over well,” Torania informed her threateningly.

“I have no need to try it on you,” the witch replied with a slight cackle in the dalish elf’s direction as he ran to her stores.

 

Despite their rocky start Agata and Dheamanras managed to work rather well together, and although the man was less skilled as a healer it soon became apparent that if there was one thing he knew it was herbs. In the next week they found the remaining ingredients in the substance and started to work on a cure for those affected. One ingredient in particular that Torania had only to hear the name of to know it was the one they should follow next.  A plant that grew only in one place….. White River Bannorn.

 

Torania’s heart hammered in her chest as they approached White River. The town, not the bannorn. The wind trailed through her three short ponytails and she could feel the mist of the early morning slightly damp as it hovered about the knees. She was a bit scared if she admitted it to herself... She did not admit it to herself.

They entered the river valley though the rough rocky terrain most people used now. Once it had not been so. Once there had been a pass. People mostly avoided it now out of respect for the dead.  The town itself was just waking for the morning. Of course that still meant the early workers were already awake. Her people. 

As they passed the outskirts of White River village the workers started to notice the group. There were odd stares for the dalish elf and the Crows and a bit of curious glances at Leliana.  Then they saw Torania and stopped what they were doing to watch and ran off to go get their families and friends. They knew who she must be, the woman with that hair and that blade.

Torania greeted them, albeit quickly. “I fear I am on an urgent mission for Ferelden. When it is done the King and I shall come here to talk to you,” she told the ones who were brave enough to try to talk to the Queen who was a subject of awe.  Maker knew it was Alistair who could truly set them at ease. 

It was not that she did not love them. Torania loved the people of Ferelden with all her heart. Alistair was just better at kissing babies and making them stop seeing him as a figure of awe. A King with a common touch.

Torania had added reason to be uncomfortable hide it though she might. The Battle of White River, fought during the war for Ferelden independence from Orlais had been the worst defeat of the war. But more than that, according to Arl Bryland, it had been the battle that changed Arl Howe.   The boy Bryland knew had died at White River; that’s what he had told her back in Denerim during the blight. 

Torania’s own father always refused to speak of it when he told stories to her. If not for the events that occurred here Howe might not have become what he did… and her parents… No, she would not think about that. And there was another thing. How twisted did a place have to be to produce its own  flower. Fereldan’s Tears. She knew holes in the veil grew in places like this… but to make their own flower… Fereldan’s Tears. A plant that had reportedly started growing in the wake of the Battle of White River, among the blood and the bodies. Still even If there was such a hole in the veil it was unlikely that there were monsters. At least not that they had heard about. And Torania had faced monsters before. Those did not frighten her.

The town itself was not the battle field however, and Torania could see the stone castle rising above the many thatched houses. She noted that it had more wood in it’s build than most of the keeps she had visited. Odd for a town so near a battlefield. One would think they would have built up their defenses as much as possible. 

 

As they reached the castle Torania also noted it’s size. Small compared to Castle Cousland, and the Denerim Palace, but bigger than that of some bannorns she had been too. 

She counted the soldiers as they entered the keep, these would not be all of them of course but it would give an idea. They looked reasonably well armed, nothing unusual. It was not that she suspected the Bann. Maker knew Orlesians had left their mark on her Bannorn. She was unlikely to be an ally of theirs. It was rather just something to do. 

They were ushered into the great hall by elven servants who stared wide eyed at Ariane. Torania wondered if they had ever seen a dalish elf before.  They lived close enough to the Brecilian. 

Bann Reginalda was a middle aged woman with hair in plaited braids down her back and deep green eyes that matched her dress. 

“Your majesty.” The woman curtsied, her eyebrows raising as she take in Leliana, Zevran, Ariane, Finn, and most of all Kitten with her Monkey. “We were not expecting a royal visit!” The Queen’s eyes searched the woman’s for a long moment before she spoke.

“I do apologize for the inconvenience, I assure you we are here on a mission for the good of the nation. We would of course be willing to stay at a local inn if necessary? They might also be able to help us find a guide…”  From the look in Reginalda’s eyes she knew exactly the game the Queen was playing.

“Oh your majesty do not even consider it, we can have suitable rooms prepared in the castle immediately, as for a guide I will volunteer myself.  I know my lands as well as any you could find, perhaps better”

Torania smiled.  “That is most gracious of you. Your loyal service will not be forgotten.”

Gathering in the rooms rooms provided for the use of the Queen and her companions the conversation began about how best to go about their task.

“If someone has been gathering the Ferelden’s Tears someone is likely to know of it,  but not the Bann. If they were a stranger in town that may have been noted if they were hired… Unless...” Leliana trailed off leaving the implication hanging in the air.

“Unless, of course the Bann is in on it,”  Zevran countered. “Then we are in the crow’s nest so to speak”

“Typical shemlen making things overly complicated. ” Somewhere Ariane had gotten a jar of pickles from which she was now munching while handing an occasional offering to Finn “If this person is still gathering the flowers I can track them from their footprints.”

“Unless of course they stopped,” Finn put in, “or it rained… or…”

Ariane took back a pickle. “I don’t see you offering any brilliant suggestions.” she snapped.

“I could always ask the local wildlife,” Kitten bounced, adding to the conversation. “Squirrels are very observant.”

“I can’t see Ban Reginalda working with Orlesian’s. She was there at the Battle of White River… Still if she didn’t know who she was working for…” Torania tailed off. “Leliana investigate the town, see what you can find. Zevran… the castle… see what you can find out.  Ariane, you come with me to the battle site.The veil is thin so we’ll take Finn too. And Kitten can come and er… talk to squirrels.” The Queen gently hit her knees as she stood with a note of finality. “But Zevran… Leliana be careful. We don’t want to alienate the Bann.

 

As they entered the narrow river valley that was the site of White River, Torania noted the flowers. White and shaped like teardrops with a red dot in the center. They gave the valley an almost mournful feeling, though perhaps that was there before. Torania could see what might be the rotting remains of battlements and what looked suspiciously like bodies fully decomposed.

“Do you know what happened at White River Your Majesty?” Bann Reginalda stood to the side of Torania, watching her carefully.

“No, well not exactly,” Torania answered.  “I know bits but not the details.  My father would never speak of it.” 

Ban Reginalda nodded, turning to gaze at the battlefield as her greying hair streamed free of a few of its braids. “Many wanted to forget, but I think it is our duty to remember.” Her eyes were far away now. 

The war in the north and the war in the south where two very different things,” Reginalda began.  “The south waited for the  Theirins to rise up. Much of the north did not. The southern army followed the Theirins. The north did not. And while the southern army was searching for Prince Maric… the northern army led by Bann Angus Eremon of the Waking Sea  rushed to guard the White River Valley so that two chevalier regiments could not enter the Hinterlands. I served with my father who was Bann of White River at the time. But the northern army only arrived just ahead of the Orlesians, and the valley that needed guarding was this one, not the one near the castle.

We built the fortifications we could. But the Orlesians outnumbered us two to one. For two days we held. My father fell in the early fights. Eremon in the final battle, Howe was nearly killed trying to save him… And that was when your father took charge, Your Majesty. Fifty of us got out. Fifty of a thousand. It was mostly your fathers doing that we got out at all. He became commander of the northern army, but never King. Many wanted him to be King. Surely you know this?  He was always adamant he would not be. Made a great show of fealty to Maric.” 

The Bann side eyed Torania as though trying to gauge her reaction and the warmth drained from the Queens veins, replaced by a cold fury.  _ She knows,  _ she thought.  _ She knows he’s gone. She is in on it! _

It took every ounce of Torania’s willpower and self control  not to leap on the Bann then and there.  _ No proof. Could be wrong… Can’t…  _ She managed to keep her face a mask. Stall for time… give the others time to work…  _ But if I’m right. _ She eyed the other woman, anger continuing to pour through her.  _ If I’m right you will fall.  _ Torania did not hesitate. It was quite possible the woman knew the story, but Torania would tell her anyway.  Time.  She needed time.

“One of the most defining moments in the history of the Cousland family, one that we remember the most, was not a victory but a surrender. Have you seen our shield Ban Reginalda?  Most nobles’ coat of arms and that of their lands are one and the same. All except for us. Originally it was the same for us. That shield was only taken later.

King Calenhad, the man whose blood runs through my husband’s veins united all of Ferelden and we fought against him.  _ We lost.” Torania placed particular emphasis on these two words.  “Calenhad could had destroyed us but he did not. Instead he asked Teyrna Elethea Cousland to swear fealty to him. Some might have considered it dishonorable to surrender, But the Teyrna’s words to her followers became rather famous in our family in fact. Couslands 'do what must be done'.  As a sign of this oath to the family of king Calenhad, Elethea designed a new shield for herself and her descendants,  One that symbolized her oath to the crown. Laural for peace, blue and silver for loyalty and innocence.” She tried to gauge the other woman’s face but the woman was as expressionless as stone. That was when Kitten rushed up with her monkey, screeching wildly.  _

__

“It’s her!” the large eared elf yelped in her thick Antivan accent. “She gathered the flowers! Mr. Nutikins said so!” Torania didn’t need another excuse, didn’t need to see Ariane coming toward them to give her the same news from over the now alarmed and alert noblewoman’s shoulder. 

“YOU,” the Queen's voice was filled with rage. She was not holding anything back now. In an instant she had drawn her dagger. Bann Reginalda’s guards rushed to defend their lady. And Torania faced a problem. No one could know the King was gone.

“This woman is under arrest for suspicion of poisoning the King,” she announced. “Her attempt failed and he is thankfully recovering in Denerim, however the trail has led me here. “  

When the men hesitated Torania’s glare intensified and she spoke low and soft. “You are standing between a woman and the villain who she knows was involved in an attempt to kill her beloved husband. A woman who might just have info about further plots on his life that are being put into place as we speak. Even if that man was not the King. Even if I had not killed an archdemon. Do you really wish to test me?” She caught and held each of their eyes with her own until they moved aside. Then she marched forward. 

They could attack her from behind of course, but something told her they would not and she moved as if she had  no doubt that they would just stand there. She would stay alert, but for now Ban Reginalda was her target.

To her credit, the woman had not tried to run. Instead she drew herself up to her full… much taller height. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“You’ve been picking flowers.” Torania told her with a low, fierce, absolute. intensity. She nodded at Ariane and Kitten, “Let's go back to the castle for questioning.”

Torania watched the woman in the chair with absolute loathing.  The surroundings vanished from her mind. The hangings on the walls, the furs, the rough furniture was gone. All there was was this woman. This woman who stood between her and her husband. “How dare you.”

“I still don’t know what I’m supposed to have done. The Bann sounded flippant as she ran a hand through her hair.”

“Those flowers...” Torania growled, “were used to hurt my husband. Do you realize what this means!? You are accused of treason!”

The Ban’s gaze was level as her eyes met the infuriated queen’s.  “I gather them to put on my brothers memorial.  Anyone could have taken them from there.”

Torania wanted to cry.  She wanted to scream. She wanted to strangle this woman alive. Instead she fell to her knees and took the other woman’s hands in hers. “The truth is I don’t have any proof,” she began. “I have only my suspicions. But I need you to understand. I think you see this as a matter of who sits on the throne: Cousland or Theirin. I suspect you blame Maric and the Southern Army for abandoning you. And the truth is, whether that belief is right or wrong I don’t know. For you this is about crowns, thrones, and kingdoms. For you this is as simple as taking the Theirin away so the Cousland can rule. And perhaps if you succeed that is what will happen. But there is something I don’t think you are thinking about. Because for me this is not a matter of any of those things first and foremost.” 

Though she hated weakness… hated showing her tears there, before the Bann, Torania began to cry. “I want you to think of your husband. I want you to think of anyone you love. Because the man that has been taken, to me, before he is a Theirin, before I am a Cousland, is my husband. The man I love is gone, my Lady. That man did not ask for  his royal blood. A Cousland does help rule though me. And I am begging you to let that be enough.” She let the desperation show in her eyes. “I love him. Words cannot express to you how much I love him. How I feel right now. If any of you has ever loved anyone. And if any of you ever admired my father who was taken from me  at all , I am begging you to bring Alistair back to me.”

As she finished Torania lowered her head to kiss the tips of the other woman’s shoe, and with a final whisper, “I am begging you. Stop looking at this as a matter of crowns, but as a matter of love and people, and please, please give me back my man.”

Torania looked up into Ban Reginalda’s face from her spot kneeling at her feet. Should she kiss the Ban’s feet? No, that might be a bit too much. If this didn’t work she would. She met her eyes and looked at her pleadingly. “Please,” she begged. Torania put all her love for her husband, all her desperation and worry into one single word. “Please,” she said again. “I am begging you. Alistair didn’t deserve this. More than anyone he didn’t deserve this.”

The Bann let out a sigh as she watched the Queen. It was a sound of irritation, of discomfort, but most of all of defeat.  “There is not much I can tell you.” She held up a hand. “But I will tell you what I know.” 

She bowed her head slightly. "I received letters from an unknown party. They expressed sympathy for… for my grievances,and told me that they wished to act on them.”  The Bann bowed her head lower.  “For the sake of those whose lives were ruined by the actions of a certain royal family, they asked for the plant and told me where to send it.”

“They sent you a note with the plans to kidnap a King and asking for aid?” The fact that there had been a note alone told Torania that they were dealing with someone at least slightly deranged.If the sender had judged the Bann wrongly the Bann could have handed the note over to the royal couple and the entire plan would have been ruined. But still the kidnapper sent the note.

“N-no. They never said exactly what they planned!” Ban Reginalda hurried to assure her, no doubt determined to distance herself as far from outright high treason as possible. “They only spoke of the Theirins as an upstart royal family that ruined their life and a location!”

Torania stood. “Can you give us this location?”

“Yes of course!” Ban Reginalda was eager to comply.

  
  


 

“So then…  an Orlesian whose life was ruined by the Theirin family…” Torania began as they gathered in the guest rooms provided for them.

“Sounds like the Orlesian nobles that settled in Ferelden no?” Leliana put in.

The Queen's face darkened. “This person…. Is doing who knows what to Alistair because of how the nobility were treated after the rebellion!?  Alistair had nothing to do with that!”

“No however his father did. To an Orlesian bloodlines are everything.”

“So we just what? Go to this location and hope the Bann is content to sit pretty?  I say I should kill her.  Much Less complicated that way.” Zevran put in.

“Someone should stay.” Torania agreed. Her eyes trailed over the group.  Leliana?  No, Torania might need her knowledge of Orlais.  Zevran and Kitten? No, Torania needed Zevran with her right now. With her husband gone she needed her best friend more than ever.  And Arianne and Finn? The truth was, though some should stay, she needed all of them. In the end the Bann was locked in her own dungeon with strict orders to the guards and a hasty note sent by messenger bird to Denerim. It was a risk they would have to take. “But I don’t think we can spare anyone” 

 

 

The first time they hit Alistair he gazed at them in sullen defiance. The woman seemed to like watching him get beaten.

“I know why you are doing this,” he told her. He refused to let out any  sound of pain, though it was harder not to wince. “Listen to me please. I might not know much but I do know this. You are achieving nothing” Her eyes flashed as she contemplated him,

“Revenge. I have waited years and years for my revenge. Now I can have it. I think that is achieving something.”  Wincing under another blow Alistair replied to her.    
“Revenge is not always all it is chalked up to be you know;"   
"says the man who killed Loghain Don’t get me wrong, I do approve of course.”    
It was the King’s turn to have his gaze harden. “That was different that was justice!” 

The woman gave him a hint of a smile. “And so is this.” 

The next blow the guard delivered caught his face hard enough to make him cry out. He was going to have a black eye now.


	7. Chateau Bataille

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lead from White River brings Torania and Co. to a place that could hold the key to learning who has Alistair. A bloodbath ensues.

Normally Torania loved the Storm Coast. She loved the way the water crashed against the stony shore with such force that it created arches of water that sprayed foam and wetness on anyone who got too close. She loved the honeycomb shaped rock columns that clustered together to make slippery staircases.  She loved the very smell of the place as it filled her nostrils. She had grown up here after all, and it was home in a way. Though they were nowhere near Highever at the moment, it was still the Storm Coast and the landscape was still the same.

When people said  the word  ocean to most Thedosians, she knew, it conjured up sandy beaches and ample sunlight. Say it to a Ferelden however, and you got images of rocky shores. Often treacherous waters. In those places where they roughness of the water’s eased, where a cove or shoal or bay created some sort of natural inlet, a harbor was built and a town often sprung up.   
This was not one of such places.

“It should be just through here!” Ariane’s voice rang out. The dalish hunter had led them to a hidden cave. “If Finn can finish slipping over his own feet!”

“It’s slippery!” The mage protested

It was slippery. The water turned the rocks into treacherous footholds but the rest of the group had little problem navigating the rough terrain. Poor Finn was the only one having too much difficulty.

“I find myself questioning the sanity of anyone who would build a chateau in a cave” Zevran commented. “Perhaps there is an open area on the other side, yes?”

When they did reach the other side, Torania noted, Kitten’s monkey made a disappointed sound and reached into the teenage elf’s coin purse to toss a coin to Zevran. Apparently they had made a bet.

Torania herself fixated her eyes on the building. It was still folly to build a chateau here. The ground was slippery and wet. And though it looked like the Orlesians had gone to tremendous effort to hack away enough rocks to build a bit of a garden, many rocks remained. The chateau itself was very Orlesian. Orlesian architecture always seemed somehow unreal to Torania, too colorful, too bright, like something somehow artificial. And Maker knew so much white was pure folly. Didn’t they  know how easily that got dirty? Like here. Torania could see the dirt eating away at the pristine Orlesian whiteness.  Paint was also peeling in response to the damp conditions she noticed in satisfaction. However did they get it to dry in the first place? There would be no upper story tricks this time. She knew that too. The upper story windows were barred. Did they know they were coming?

“Right, so there is a large possibility this is an elaborate trap,” she began. “If anyone wants to turn back they can still do so now.” When no one volunteered she nodded. She hadn’t expected them to honestly.

“Alright then we clear out the gardens first.  The last thing we need is more people rushing inside when we are fighting there. Keep an eye out for archers from the  chateau.  We don’t have anyone who uses a shield to ward them off. Finn stay back.” She caught the mage's eye, “We’ll need you close later to use your healing waves spell but for now conserve mana.”  She turned to Leliana, her archer,“If they start shooting at us from the chateau. You shoot back if you can but avoid putting yourself in danger.  If they do not, your priority is to kill any mages. If there are none then…” Torania hesitated for a split second, “save your arrows. Wait till one of us is in danger but does not see it or is in trouble some other way and shoot then.  Use bard songs or no depending on if you wish to give away your position.”

She turned to Ariane, the champion, “I need you to focus on the mages.  You are official mage killer, barring that… the rest of the main group, make sure they don’t kill anyone else.”

As her gaze flicked to Zevran and Kitten, the Antivan raised an eyebrow. “You both just do what you do best for now” Torania concluded. “Stick to the shadows and kill.”

The gardens were very Orlesian. They looked like they had once been carefully manicured, but they had now been left to grow out. That was how it worked really. Orlesians tried to go to war with nature and create perfectly pristine landscapes. Fereldens worked with it. Torania regarded the plants around her with contempt. As they walked around, weapons at the ready, they noted sheds falling apart and even what looked like some sort of play structure for children. It was not until they had circled the house and entered the main courtyard that the inhabitants of the chateau seemed to notice their presence. Torania saw the archers at about the same time as the others. There was no time to scoff at the Orlesian architecture, no time to run inside, as several harlequins emerged from the shadows they abruptly found themselves under attack.

Only Orlais, Torania thought, only Orlais would come at us with a harlequin. Elite rouges dressed in bright colors and patterns with masks that were creepy even for normal Orlesian standards. Also a fondness for strange fog causing concoctions that came in flasks. She could hear Leliana drawing her bow behind her. Unfortunately, there was not much cover in the open courtyard.  Fog on its own would be good for her, but not with the incapacitating effects that harlequins used. Maker! Leliana had to be able to take on the archers or they were done for.  “Well then,” Torania grinned and launched herself to the side. “Is it just me or do you actually think you have a chance!”  Truth be told she had never fought a harlequin before. She was rather excited. She got them away from Leliana before one launched a flask. And then the fight got much more interesting. “Oh good!” Torania taunted, “I was looking for a challenge”  keeping them focused on her as long as possible…  Even as she spoke she could feel the fogs effects starting to drain her of energy.  The substance plumed and shrouded her completely blocking off all visibility. She knew what would come next. Blades she could not see stabbing in the mist. “Oh void no” Torania forced her exausted body to move. They couldn’t see her either… Get out of the fog. The layout of the courtyard was fresh in the queen’s mind. These opponents might be silent, but if she could only  get to the edge of the fog... Torania closed her eyes and used her memory to avoid the rocks and fallen bricks. Stumbling out of the fog at last she forced her recovering body into action and stabbed her dagger into the back of a harlequin. Their opponents no longer had the time to reach for their flasks and where fighting for their lives. Kitten appeared out of nowhere to kill another of the harlequins who went for Torania while she was still too slow. And as Arianne killed the last harlequin, Torania could feel the drugged fog fading from her body.  The archers seemed to be taken care of as well.  Their first battle was over.  And sadly she had missed most of it.

 

As they walked into the chateau itself the first thing Torania noted was the huge statue of Andraste. It stood on top of a large fireplace like marble structure that had fancy carvings instead of a fire. This stood up a half flight of stairs that then split in either direction.The railings were on either side circling as they adjusted from the sideways facing to forward facing stairs. On either side of the statue were paintings, the same type of paintings that lined the room between them and the stairs. It was rather majestic but all Torania felt was disgust. How very Orlesian. Then she looked up. A dragon. There was topiary of a dragon, a full-size dragon hanging from the ceiling and the queen was forced to admit that the Orlesians might have one good idea when it came to decorating.  The entrance hall was a good room for a fight. Large and roomy without much their opponents could use against them. It didn’t have much cover though. She looked around but the others already knew what she was thinking. It was easy enough to drag a few of the large display tables to make makeshift shelters. Then as Kitten vanished outright and Zevran moved into the shadows, Torania and the rest positioned themselves to the side of the doors. Then Leliana began to sing loudly a battle song, a tale of Heroes and the foes they fought. It was enough to attract attention “Creators guide my hand” Torania heard Ariane mention from the door across from her. “If we die I’ll speak to Falon’din  for you all. You’re good shems.”

As the first man came running out, Torania caught him in the neck with her dagger. He gave a single gurgling gasp then fell as warm blood sprayed everywhere. Block the choke points -Torania moved in front of the door to face her foes-  and you control the battle. It was rare it worked completely though and it was a matter of time before they came down the main staircase instead of just the side doors. She could see her enemy turning to run. They knew better then to come out single file for her to fight. She threw a throwing knife catching a man in the back of the neck and then they were out of range.

Torania heard the twang of an archer and an arrow loosed, flying at Leliana who ducked momentarily behind her makeshift table shelter As the archers tried again, Finn peaked from behind the table and waited until the men coming down the main staircase triggered his glyph of repulsion. The mage grinned as several were thrown backward “I am mage! Hear me roar!” Torania vaulted onto the staircase in time to cut down an archer then moved backward slowly as the men with heavier weapons moved forward. Seeing their intent, Ariene joined her, slowly moving back as the men moved forward.  As the men removed themselves from the staircase and high ground advantage there was a shriek of glee. Kitten slid down the curved railing to bury her daggers into an Orlesian’s back. Zevran joined the fight from the shadows behind the Orlesian and the men were surrounded, which only made them fight harder. Torania ducked away from a blade, twisting her body into an acrobat’s pose. Then, in the split second of her twist when her eyes left her enemy and she saw the dragon, the idea struck her. Her eyes met kitten’s as she righted herself, and the elf jerked a shoulder to indicate the absence of her monkey. She was already on it.

The dragon came crashing down about a minute later crushing most of the Orlesians, save the ones who had been quick enough to move to the edges of the room like the queen’s group. Ooa make a triumphant squeaking sound in response no doubt pleased with her ability to bite through rope . The last Orlesians were quickly dispatched leaving Kitten to cradle her monkey in her arms “Who is an amazing battle assassin monkey! Yes you are!” The monkey screeched indignantly. “Well yes but they don’t know that!” The small creature nodded pacified.

They picked one of the sides at random and moved forward into a new room.  The hall had cut marble tile floors, lit blazers, and velvet curtains, but as Torania noted, no soldiers

“They are most likely lying in wait, in groups to ambush us or take us on where they see fit” Leliana commented. Torania nodded, it made sense.

“Say there is a library...” Fin asked “I don’t suppose I would be able to say… take a peek at the tombs? No? alright.”

 

Torania jerked half skidding past a room occupied by the enemy combatants. “Right, here we go!” She threw herself inside before they could rush forward to block the door. Then the queen blinked. Everything had turned pink. A man came at her from the side and the queen ducked skipping out of the way to let the others enter. A ghastly pink fabric covered the chairs, the sofa, even the curtains. Must have been the style at the time she noted.    
As the others entered the room, the fight started in earnest. Torania barely had time to engage her first foe when one of the others hurled the chess table at them. She rolled out of the way.  With so many combatants in one room the fight was quite frankly chaos. Torania didn’t even have time to count their enemies in the whirl of swirling weapons and bodies. She was pretty sure more were coming in. A man blocked her weapons against his shield and grabbed her head pushing her against the keyed table like instrument.   
Torania ducked under the musical device swerving to the side and out around one of its legs as another man with an axe brought it down on it. Then she grabbed the broken leg, ditching her sword. It would be handier in a close up fight like this. Turning to the axe wielding man she shoved the splintered wooden end of the interment into his face. He dropped with a howl, hands clutching his head and Zevran came up from behind to stab him with his knife. Nearby Leliana had turned a music stand into a makeshift weapon and was using it to take out armed fighters as Ariane shoved a harp on to a female Orlesian bard. The closest foe to Torania now was a rather huge hairy man whom she was rather sure could be part bear. As she moved up to him he turned to leer at her. The queen darted in, jumping to the side at the last moment as he tried to stab her with his sword. Then he brought the blade around in a fancy move to make her duck again. Instead, she contorted, twisting her body slightly so the blade missed and, she took advantage of the opening to get behind his guard and cut his throat. They were dealing with guards  there was no doubt about that. but the last man in this group was down.   
Before they left the room Torania looked over at the chessboard. Slowly she picked up two pieces and put them in her pocket 

 

Of all the places Torania thought to have an epic battle, an overly fancy washroom was not one of them. None the less that was the next place they encountered the enemy

As an axe blade slammed into the black tile in the floor by the side of her head and forced a chip to jump out, Torania had to admit the wielder had style. They were badly outnumbered and outmatched. The queen let out a yell, thrusting herself at the axe wielder, her feet aiming for his legs to knock him over. The man staggered doing some sort of odd twirl as he tried to keep his balance and grabbing onto Ariane’s hair. The Dalish elf moved her head along with him instinctively so the roots would not get ripped out and gave Torania a look as she stabbed the man. “Sorry!” Torania lashed out at another foe now finding herself back to back with the Dalish warrior. 

“You know a little warning might have been nice.” Ariane crossed her blades to form a makeshift shield to block and attack. 

“Sorry, I was a bit busy avoiding being split in half!” Torania contorted blocking an incoming blade with her dagger.

“We should really be fighting not talking.” Ariane broke away from the queen ducking to avoid being skewered.

“I can do both!” Torania narrowly avoided being impaled and turned to face the pike bearer. “You think you can beat me with that!? Ha! I spar with my husband with him using those all the time!”

“And how often does he beat you?” The man made a cautious jab at the queen. 

“Once, but he cheated!” Bloody Maker they did not have time for this. Torania feigned going in then did a leap and a flip landing in close range of the man, too close for the spear. Then she noticed the arrows sticking out of her leg. Gritting her teeth the queen stabbed the surprised pikeman then gave a slight grin at the men that now bore down on her seeing her injury. Over her soldier she could see the others were not in much better shape

They had to end this quickly

Torania could feel her injured leg shaking under her and that was not even counting the pain. And that was why it was perfect. The one thing they would expect her to avoid doing right now would be putting weight on that leg, which was why she had to perform a move that relied on doing just that to surprise them and trust in her body to not screw it up.

She vaulted again, twisting her body in the opposite direction of what was needed to land on her good foot and avoid at least one blade in the process. She kept her sword ready to bat away any that came for her. They didn’t. They had all gone for where she would be likely to land, on the good leg. Torania stuck the landing on her back leg and pain exploded from it in protest. She ignored it, gritting her teeth harder as she moved her body forward using her second leg to lunge and moving her blades in a wide sweep as she did so.  Blood sprayed everywhere all over her and the surrounding area. She had hit them all but one. The last one was brought down by an arrow from Leliana and then Torania’s leg collapsed leaving her splayed out on the floor.

Healed by Finn and rather stiff  the party moved onward but only after Zevran commented on the tub now being a “Bloodbath”.

 

Their worst  battle  took place on the staircase to the second story of the chateau. It was marble like the floor with the railing ending in a spiral at the bottom. And sadly the enemy had the upper ground. 

Torania moved forward carefully to engage the first man. He was a large one in heavy armor with a ridiculous helmet shaped in the Orlesian manner with a human face. What is the point of doing that she wondered. You have your real one just under it. An arrow whizzed over her soldier but from behind and the man blocked it with his shield Leliana was not going to get in any free shots this time . Beside her she heard Ariane’s pre-battle plea of “Creators guide us” 

“Yes” Torania thought “and the Maker as well.” she could tell by how the men kept bouncing on the balls of their feet in a fighting stance to hide their tells that these were no amateurs. Nothing she could not handle of course, but it was good to be safe.

She counted six of them, though there could be more just around the corner. All dressed in black padded armor. Trimmed with green. Heraldry?  Suddenly a chill ran down her spine. Neither side seemed to want to rush to engage the other. Their opponents did not want to lose their height advantage and it would be foolish to charge up willy nilly.

“I’m going to make a random guess that you also cannot be reasoned with and we have to kill you all.” Torania sighed. Really. What was the woman paying these people? The Orlesians did not reply.

“Alright” She concluded. “Time for some fun.”

Their opponents formed a shield wall.

So much for the fun. She thought. Magic was the best option.  She turned to Finn. “Oy, I know they’ll be too steady on their feel like that for a knockdown glyph… But could you set the carpet on fire?”

She said it aloud on purpose. If the men backed up on the staircase it meant Finn would not have to use mana to set it on fire and ice it down later.

The Orlesians obliged, carefully moving backwards off the staircase to avoid the carpet. Just as more men poured out of a room nearby.

As Finn used a paralysis glyph, Torania and the others moved up the staircase. Torania nodded at Ariane and thrust herself into the battle. She would not come at them how they expected, no… that would be folly. Instead she grabbed a plate from a nearby display stand and lobbed it up over the shield wall. When in doubt do the unexpected. There were some startled sounds as more shields joined to block overhead.

Torania nodded at Kitten and Zevran. She was pretty sure they could figure out what she planned as she lopped more fancy plates at the shield wall. There were not many shadows for the Antivan Crows to work with but they rushed forward grabbing the velvet curtains and hauling themselves upwards so that they could propel themselves over the shield wall and start stabbing from behind.  As a small gap opened in the shield wall in the resulting panic, Leliana shot an arrow through it.  
A man went down and Torania entered the fray Ariane at her side. The two duel wielders struck out. Ariane blocking blows and Torania dodging them. They managed to bring down a few of the group in the resulting tumult. Then the enemies gathered themselves back together. Fin paralyzed another man and another Orlesian pushed him on Ariane who went head over heels down the staircase with the paralyzed man managing to land on top and dive her sword through his heart. The Dalish elf ran back up the stairs with a battle cry and entered the fray again. Torania contorted her body to avoid a blow that was meant to kill her. And by not blocking or dodging as her attacker expected, she was free to kill him before rolling out of the way of another blow. She lept to her feet just as a Harlequin appeared out of nowhere and tried to skewer her.   
“Reinforcements!” She gasped as the blade nicked her ear. Finding herself surrounded by the Harlequin and Orlesian mercenaries, or whatever they were, the queen groaned. She blocked the attack from one, avoided the third, and stabbed the Harlequin.   
A gloved hand rammed her head into the wall and Torania saw stars as she plunged her other blade into her attacker. She tried to think straight as she dodged and managed to take down a few more of her attackers. As her head was rammed into the wall again and fingers pressed into her eye sockets, she lashed out in the direction of movement willing herself not to pass out. The pressure was removed from her eyes and she could feel her opponents’ warm blood splatter all over her face. She focused on the sensation, on consciousness, and forced herself away from the wall in time to stab another in the back. 

 

Most of the next fights were uneventful. That was until they reached the master bedroom.  The aftermath of that battle left the bed stained with blood and Kitten injured.

“I am fine Zevran, stop fussing,” Kitten told her master as Finn worked to heal her side where a knife had caught her.

“I am not fussing!” Zevran assured his student. “Good apprentices are just hard to come by!”

Kitten’s eyes welled up.

“You think I am a good apprentice?”

“I…” Zevran began. “Yes Kitten you are a good apprentice.”

Immediately the elf's eyes were dry. “Ha! He said it Ooa. I win the bet!” The monkey made a resigned sound and handed kitten a nut with a bow on it.

Torania let out a strangled cry

“Really I am fine. The magic has healed me, see!”

“No not… I mean I’m glad but…. Oh no.” The Queen was looking at the wall were a coat of arms was displayed. Green and black, it sported a dragon and a feather and a crown.”

“Is that…” Leliana began

Torania nodded her hands over her mouth. The Queen suddenly looked very small and almost vulnerable

“Whenever someone wants to explain what this is about, we’ll be standing right here,” Finn put in.

“We have to find one who is alive.” Torania suddenly turned around, eyes blazing. Her expression  left it,  to question just what state of life they  would be. Before the group left however .She pulled the two chess pieces from her pocket and walked over to the fancy bed gently laying them close together on the pillow. If someone came to check they could find the king and queen in bed together with dead Orlesians all around.

 

They searched the chateau, looking in overly fancy bedrooms, elaborate gardens, even the much less fine servants quarters.

Torania had become a goddess of fury. Her eyes were wide, the pupils dilated. She was flushed red and her tone writhed   with enough vengeance to fill Lake Calenhad.

The soldier was on the loo when she grabbed him, pinning him against the wall with a dagger  to   his throat. And it was probably fair to say the only thing that stopped him from wetting himself  then was that he was already.

“Here is how is this is going to work. I am going to ask you one question. And if you lie or refuse to answer I will murder you slowly in the most painful way possible,” the redhead informed him.  

“I would advise you not to lie, I can usually tell the difference,” Leliana cut in, her nose wrinkled slightly.

“Right.” Torania made sure the man’s eyes met her own. “What is the name of the person who hired you?”

“Dufayel… Margurite Dufayel ”

 

Torania paced their campsite. The Queen of Ferelden was used to feeling strong, confident, vibrant. But she had not been lately. Not since she heard he was gone. She could banish the worry for him from her constant conscious thoughts, she noted, but not from her demeanor. Pausing and wrapping her arms around a tree, Torania leaned her head against the bark. She wanted to hold something. She would not cry though. Not here.  Not where they all could see her. Compose yourself, she urged herself. You are a Queen!  You have to stop for the night! There is no help for it! She took deep breaths to steady herself. You are Torania Cousland Theirin and you will not fall apart like a child! The Queen fell to her knees, bending over and  clutching her hand under her to her chest, as if to hold in the emotions she did not wish to show.  Maker she missed him so much. Knowing who he was in the hands of… sort of… made it all the worse. But she would not cry. Torania pulled herself to her feet. Thrusting aside her little breakdown, a mask of  neutrality  back on, she went back to the others.

 

“The Orlesian usurper, King Megren did not use his last name in Ferelden much,” Torania explained for those, who did not know already. as they sat around the fire.“Mostly likely because the Ferelden's started calling him ‘Do Fail’  instead of Dufayel.”

“Why did they send a man named Do Fail?” Kitten asked.

“Because they are Orlesian,” Torania answered.  “Orlesians do these things… No offence intended Leliana.”

“I understand. Your words are true enough in a way,” the bard assured her.

“There was never any talk about relatives that I heard,” Torania continued as she shot a look at her nightingale friend for more info.

“I do know a little,” Leliana began. “King Meghren had a brother you see, and after Meghren’s failure… well the man was not welcome at court… or in any of the important circles as I understand it. So there is not much info to be had. It is possible this man had a female child….”

“Well we certainly cannot go to Orlais for information.  That would take far too long, ” Torania decided. “My husband is captured now!  We have to go back to Denerim. There have to be some records somewhere!”  Though they might need some help finding them…


	8. Investigations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back In Denerim, investigations start taking advantage of what has already been learned, and different people have different tactics.

 

Aleandra Depruse curtsied before her Queen.   _Was she in trouble?_ she wondered. Every time the Queen summoned her,  The elf- blooded woman could not help but convince herself that she was in a terrible mess. She pulled on one of her clustered black curls, tucking it back into place, then schooled her features into a mask so that when she rose they showed nothing. She had nothing to worry about she assured herself. The Queen knew her skills. The mage next to the Queen, she eyed warily, for he was obviously a mage though he was dressed in leather.

“Aleandra, Finn. Finn, Aleandra,” Torania gestured at each of them in turn. “Aleandra is our lead translator and Finn is the Fereldan Circle’s head linguist. I need both of you to go through all the records from the time of the rebellion for mentions of anyone in the Dufayel family other than the King!” Leliana could read Orlesian too of course but the woman had announced mysteriously that she had things to check in other circles before vanishing.

Aleandra eyed Finn; she would see what this man could do. Maker knew mages would try to claim they were experts on all sorts of things besides magic. No one with sense believed them. The Queen did not speak Orlesian, she knew that much, and that was why she had found a translator like Aleandra. Still, if the dark skinned woman knew the Queen, and she did, Torania would want in on the task as well. And Aleandra had come to learn that the Queen did not just keep people like her around to do their job and keep their mouth shut. They could advise as well. It was a concept that she struggled with. _No one wants to hear you,_ the little voice in her head said. _No one cares what you have to say._

 _Don’t listen_ , she told herself. _I won’t…_

“YourMajestyIhaveasuggestion,”

“What is it?” the Queen asked.

Those black eyes. Maker those black eyes. Why were they always so intense?

“I expect you will want to help us by looking for the word Dufayel, though you do not understand the rest in the documents. But… I don’t think you will have thought about this because you seem a bit frantic…. There may be lots of mentions of that name. And perhaps side mentions of the family that don’t use certain words…. “

The Queen swallowed. Aleandra could see a bit of light leave her eyes as she accepted what was told to her.

“But perhaps there are things you can do?” the elf-blooded woman added.

 

“I stand by what I said before my friend. He will be alright,” Zevran said to Torania as she stared into space polishing her blade in her room. It seemed the redhaired Queen had been waiting to snap.

“How do you know!?” She shoved over a chair.

“Because he has you. Aren’t you some sort of hero or something? I could be wrong of course. It has been known to occur.”

The queen whirled turning to Zevran and for once she could not hide the tears in her eyes. 

“You don’t understand! I hate…! I hate being helpless! I hate not knowing! I hate when… When people get hurt.” Her mind was far away now. Years ago. In a burning castle with a dead and dying family, and people she had known her entire life up until then that she could not save. “Zevran I can’t lose him!”

“I know my friend, I know.” He stepped forward to hug her and she fell apart there on his shoulder.

 

It was amazing what a good night’s sleep could do. Though truth was, Torania was pretty sure Zevran had gotten Agata to drug her food. She should be angry. She should be furious with him; perhaps she was. But it didn’t matter because when she woke up alone in the bed she normally shared with Alistair, dislodging the fur covering and feeling the sun’s rays hit her eyes, Torania knew what to do. Take what you have and use it in an unexpected way. Come at the problem like that because the fact was, the kidnapper had given them a way to track her down.  Even if this was going to require and unconventional method.

 

It was cold, but then it was always cold. Zevran Arainai would have traded a lot for just one minute of warmth. But then, where they were going, he suspected things might get hot rather quickly. He looked to his companion beside him. Torania was wrapped in a cloak to hide her features but Zevran could imagine what emotion they would be showing. Intense. Driven. Or perhaps worried. She needed Alistair back, and Zevran would help her.

“This way I think.” He gestured for her to follow him into a back ally.

“I think?” she asked.

So cynical, his Warden

“This woman… she will know?” Torania continued.

“My friend,” Zevran told her, ducking under a low rooftop that was dripping water from the last Ferelden downpour, “If you want to know what is going on with criminals you go to their Queen.”

“Their Queen!? The criminals have a Queen!?” Torania demanded from behind him, holding up a hand to block the water drops as she passed.

“The fact is, sorella, we Crows might regulate crime in Antiva… But Ferelden… It tends to be more… as you say, traditional. So a King or Queen it is”

There was a pause before Torania inquired in a slightly incredulous voice. 

“Do they have Arls and Banns as well?”

“Tragically no… I think they have a hard enough time stopping their monarch from being killed by rival usurpers to the slightly dirty throne”

“But you think this one might have the information”

“It is worth a shot, no?”

 

Zevran had to admit it was a rather ingenious plan. There was a reason he respected this woman so much, a reason they were such good friends, and it was not just her fighting ability or her loyalty.  It was the fact that, if she wanted to, Zevran knew Torania could scheme and act and orchestrate large elaborate plans of betrayal and intrigue. But she didn’t. She did not wear her heart on her sleeve in the manner her husband did. No, it was that she often chose to put it there, and Zevran had seen her draw it back just as fast; to display a false heart instead with equal vigor and no one ever suspected the truth. But she did not use these abilities to hurt those around her. Even though she could have.

Her husband was also complicated. Because though he wore his heart on his sleeve… it was hard to predict what that heart would do. Alistair was easy to underestimate. Clueless and bumbling, witty and strong.  Zevran wondered what Alistair would do if he ever truly snapped.

Kitten was somewhere nearby with her monkey. Zevran had asked her to keep watch. Where they were going it might be needed. The woman who sat on the raised chair inside the inn was beautiful in the way most powerful woman were beautiful. She wore confidence like a cloak. And she had a mole. Zevran loved moles. Her eyes were dark. Her hair was a mass of  tight dark curls, pulled back into a bun. She wore a vest type garment, probably armored Zevran thought, of Ferelden fur with an Orlesian silk cloth shirt underneath

“I am Penetra,” the woman on the chair spoke, “You will follow me.”  And follow her they did, into a side room where the dark haired woman turned to the both of them.

“What brings an Antivan Crow all the way here?” Her eyes poured over Zevran. Then Torania threw back her hood. The other Queen let out a slight gasp. Not of fear, more surprise. Then both woman locked gazes, trying to stare each other down. Zevran sighed. This was going to be a long meeting.

Unexpectedly however, Torania lowered her eyes. What was going through her head, he wondered. This was unlike the woman he knew. Then it dawned on him. Alistair. For Alistair she is willing to be the submissive one.

“You take an awful risk coming here,” Penetra stirred a cup of ale with her little finger absently. “If other nobles knew the Queen was meeting with me and had not slayed me…”

“I doubt your people would be very happy either; knowing you had seen me, you might have made a deal or some such. So I suppose it’s better for both of us if this be kept quiet,” Torania replied.

“Still, I could kill you! Coming here does not seem very intelligent and now we might have to move.”

“You could try to kill me,” Torania corrected her.

“Why are you here?” Penetra demanded.

Torania looked at her. The walls of the room were empty of decoration. There was a bed but that was all.  If this was the criminal’s Queen she did not have much queenly, but the clothing she was wearing and perhaps the weapons at her hip. That or she had arranged to meet Zevran somewhere that was not her real base. That was what Torania would have done in her shoes.

“You know… Alistair and I put rather high tariffs on  foreign goods in order to boost the Ferelden economy, “ Torania began. “This is Ferelden.  We don’t ban drugs or other things, and the carta tends to handle lyrium. Assassination is no tradition here which leaves you the queen of three things.” Torania raised fingers as she counted them off  “Street thievery, burglary, and the much more profitable, and much more safe smuggling of foreign goods. Yet you are in Denerim not on the coast. The coast of course being were the smuggling occurs. My guess as to the reason why would be that Denerim is a central location from which you can deliver the goods.”

“Your point?” Penetra raised an eyebrow idly.

“I want to know the places where you have delivered large amounts of Orlesian goods,” Torania demanded.

Penetra smiled at this. 

“Ah so now we get down to it.”

Torania glared at the Criminal Queen, suspicion  starting to run through her veins  

“Oh sodding!” the Queen broke off, turning around for moment with her hands up in the air. “Every time. This happens every single bloody time!” She turned back. “You have a task for us don’t you?”

The other woman nodded, her curls bouncing slightly. 

“I will help you if you help me. There is one man that needs to be taken care of. Once he was my second in command. Now he has betrayed me to try to set himself up as a leader. I want us to kill him.”

She could pin the other woman against the wall right now. She could put a knife to her throat and demand answers and oh she wanted to. But if Penetra screamed those outside would hear them. They needed this woman’s help and that would not end well. Instead Torania rose an eyebrow.

“Us? So you are coming with us then?”

“I want to make sure the job gets done. I can help in a fight as well,” Penetra answered.

In other words she does not trust us Torania thought. 

“How do we know you will tell us once we do you this little favor,” Torania demanded, “And what if you die?”

“I give you my word. I will tell you and you will just have to make sure I don’t die”

Make sure she would not die? Torania glared. “Fine but when we fight you stay in back. I can’t risk them stabbing you.”

 

The nice thing about killing a crimelord Torania thought to herself was that nobody really cared. Well sure there were always his lackeys but besides them this was not like killing a noble.  This was just pure and simple bloody murder. The bad thing was she had no bloody clue how she was going to do this or how many people they would actually be fighting. Not that that ever stopped her.

Her mask felt slightly itchy against her face and having her hair pulled back in a bun was just plain strange, but no one needed to know the Queen of Ferelden was going about murdering crimelords. The inn looked like any regular Ferelden inn and Torania hoped innocents were not inside.

“Anyone who runs besides the one we seek gets let go.” She shot at the other woman. Penetra gritted her teeth but nodded.

Kitten rushed up to them.  

“Torania I scouted it it out! This was boring!”

“How many were there?” The red haired Queen asked.

“Twenty seven !”  Kitten told her eagerly.

“Is there any way to distract them?” the queen inquired, looking around. “Lure some off so we face less in number?”

“Yes. How do you want Distraction?”  Kitten enthused. “I can do it! I can do it!”

“I would go for the Kitten Special” Zevran advised

The elf grinned at her master rather evilly and saluted.

“Please tell me that does not involve blowing up multiple buildings in my kingdom.” Torania looked from one Antivan to the other.

“No, no it is alright sorella.  She has it under control,” Zevran assured her.

 

The Kitten special was truly something to behold.  As they watched from a reasonable distance,  brightly colored explosions sprang up from inside the inn in question, followed shortly by the sound of shattering glass. The small elf lept out the window of the inn. From somewhere she had gotten an Orlesian hat and was wearing it proudly like it made her the queen of the word. In her hand was one of her daggers.

“I KITTEN CHALLENGE YOU AND YOUR LOUSY FACE MEN! THE OOA ARMY AWAITS TO MEET YOU IN COMBAT!”  She threw another explosive and marched around happily as the monkey howled at the top of its lungs

Torania could hear the bellowing from inside

“SOMEONE STOP THAT CRAZY ELF!”  Several people came out of the inn and Kitten grinned at them bowing before running, yowling insults all the way

“And there,” Zevran grinned, “we have it.”

“Has anyone ever told you your apprentice is bloody crazy!? I love it!”  

Torania could feel the corners of her mouth tugging upwards in a smile as she drew the sword and dagger she had chosen for temporary use. The blade was shorter than her usual one, better for cramped quarters; the dagger much the same, just more plain. Zevran already had his weapons and Penetra, Torania noted, wielded two small axes.

Zevran nodded sagely at her words. Ears perking up in pride  

“Indeed she is a glory to behold yes? Just so for she is mine!”

Slightly rotten hay crunched under their feet as they entered the tavern that served as the bottom story of the inn. It was there to make it easier to clean the place Torania knew that, just get rid of the rotten hay, but it also made it so that sneaking was exceedingly difficult. Not that they were sneaking in the first place. They entered the room brazenly as though they owned the place and Torania could feel the stares on her sizing her up.  She flounced through the room 

“You know I could not help but notice how ugly you are” She informed the largest man she could find.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Well, here we are about to kill everyone in this room and I was worrying to myself what insult I wanted to go with first but I just saw your face and It was so obvious!”

The large man growled down at the tiny woman who grinned up at him. 

“Why would you even.. Who are you!?”

Penetra entered the room both axes drawn. 

“Hello boys did you miss me!” She didn’t give them time to answer  The the tan skinned woman buried an axe in one man’s chest while the others were on their feet attacking.

“Any of these your man?” Torania called over the din of the fight as Zevran’s dagger entered the back of a man to her side and she swerved to avoid a blade

“No the pond sucker is probably further in!”

And so they killed. Brutally.

“Gregin”  Penetra breathed as they finally entered the rooms of the man she sought. Anticipation laced her voice.

“Penetra!” He growled in return. “This time you won’t escape through my net.” He was a handsome man, Torania noted, in a gruff kind of way, red hair and dual daggers with stern features and eyes of a blazing shade of blue.

“Is this where they fight each other?” Zevran asked. “This is sounding more and more like something that should be performed by third rate players no?”

“Well then I’ll have to liven things up” Torania announced before going up to the man “So you. I have to kill you. Nothing personal, I mean you are a criminal and standing between me and my husband so I don’t feel _that_ bad, but I apologize you have to die.”

That man looked at her and blinked. 

“Who ‘er you… Why ‘er mask… wearing a mask ‘t fight crime is the stupidest thing I ‘ave ever heard of” He squatted slightly bending his knees into fighting position.

Torania had already done the same and shrugged. 

“It works for some.”

Abruptly he stuck, his knives a flash, trying to catch her off guard. Torania sidestepped quickly. He was faster than she thought. This man was good. They circled each other but with her sword she had the advantage.

So he fought dirty, throwing a powder in her direction. Torania has seen his hand moving and held her breath however, Moving away. 

“You could just die for me you know” she told him. He struck again and this time she took advantage as he missed, cleanly severing the tendons of his forearm. The man’s  dagger dropped from his hand with a clang.

Suddenly a hand came at her from the side. Not his. This was someone else. Cheating! Of course it was cheating. This was the street. She could feel the hand yank her head into position.

 _Headbut,_ she thought. _Blast._ Torania tilted her head at the last moment so the hard sturdy bone of this new opponents forehead met her own instead of the squishy much more breakable bones of her face. It hurt like the void, but, as Zevran hopped in, she knew the headbutter would be hurting as well.

Maker she was so done with this fighting and not getting anywhere. Torania kicked the person in front of her right between the legs. As Zevran lashed out at Gregin she brought the newcomer to her knees. In face of the double onslaught, both enemy combatants were soon brought to heel.

“Since you did not let me fight can I at least be the one to kill them!?” Penetra demanded. “I want to see the light leave their eyes!”

And then Gregin did the worst thing he could do. Or perhaps best depending on one’s perspective. The man began to beg. 

“Please spare ‘er! Kill me but spare her! She was only trying to defend me ‘e'll never threaten your throne again.”

The woman in question chimed in. 

“Don’t listen to him! It was all my idea. He was just my puppet. Kill me and he would never have the brains to do any of this. I promise!”

Torania heart sunk like a stone. 

“You are lovers.”

“What does it matter that they are lovers!” Penetra snapped. “Do you know how many lovers died when they betrayed me!?”

It was then Torania realized her mistake. Why had she not asked the woman before what exactly had happened? She knew why, she had been too focused on Alistair. She could not be like that. She couldn’t…  It tore her apart at times. She felt like a mabari with two different masters. There was Alistair and there was Ferelden. Both pulling her apart as one did a meat bone. Love was the death of duty and duty was the death of love. But Torania would be destroyed if she chose either one and forsook the other. They were knives in her soul, the times she truly had to choose between them, making Alistair king against his will and, of course, making herself queen when she should have stepped back so he could find a nice fertile woman. Knives in her soul that she tried to ignore. How many more knives would she have to stab herself with before the end? How many more could she take? She couldn’t afford to do this blindly anymore. Yet… Alistair… She needed to know what Penetra knew about her husband.

“Just how did they betray you?” she asked. Please Maker let there be justification for killing them. Please let them deserve to die.

“Just what does it matter?” Pentera snarled at her. “I have the information you need.”

“I need to know!” Torania demanded.

“It was no betrayal!” the man snapped. “least not like she’s sayin! I won the deal fair n’ square!”

“Wait!” Torania asked holding up her hands incredulously. “That’s what this is about? Gambling!?” Immediately from the look they booth gave her she knew she had said the wrong thing.

“You’re the bloody queen ain’t you!” The women looked utterly indignant.“What would you know about the underworld!”

Absolutely nothing… Torania realized. She knew about the commoners but not about organized crime… well not much. She had broken the law quite a bit in her day even going so far as to pay money for the information about good hits… but those days were behind her.

“This was a popular inn! A way to expand our influence… we played a game of wicked grace and he cheated! Then when I threatened him… he called in his hidden mercenaries! He had been stealing from our funds to buy them off!”

“You didn’t want the treasury enough! I would have been a fool not to reinforce my position.”

“I barely escaped alive.. many were not so lucky! He needs to die!”

Torania ran a hand down her face. 

“The fact is I really don’t care. I expect there will always be organized crime in Ferelden but it tends to stay low key enough that I’ve never heard of it causing an issues. Penetra we have brought you here and this far. If I separate you or try to spare either one of you, you’ll just go at each other again. “ She tried to ignore the discomfort about the lovers in her chest. “The fact is this is not my world. Why should I have the right to judge? Penetra you tell us what you know, and then you and Gregin can duel one on one, winner takes the cheese.” There was another sharp pang in her chest at her own choice of words. She refused to meet the eyes of Gregin’s lover as she spoke and then it occurred to her, if Penetra won she would be an enemy later. She turned back and looked the young man in the eyes.  If only Penetra had not said who she was! She had to do it. She had to order that she be killed if Penetra won. That was what a ruler should do! Torania opened her mouth. “As for Gregin’s lover, I should require she be killed if Penetra loses so she does not come after me in love struck revenge.” She saw Gregin’s jaw tighten, “but I won’t” Torania continued.  “It is not in me to do such. I would ask that she sign a paper to the Maker’s name requiring she not come after me. And point out that my options here were very limited. And that should she choose to make herself my enemy she will not live for very long after. My enemies tend to die.”

“Shall we not even maim her?” Zevran asked.

“If she decides to kill me that won’t stop her.”

“It might make it significantly harder”

“It also might make her want to kill me even more.”

“It is hard to murder or find work if she does not have hands.”

 

In the end, Torania stood outside the door to the inn with the papers held to her chest. She did not want to watch this fight. From the screams inside she guessed that Penetra had won and that, furthermore, Zevran had disobeyed her on the no maiming ruling. She would likely have done the same in his shoes.

As Zevran came out however, she felt a bit of a knot come undone in her chest. Oh so many knots.

“This is something,” she told him shaking the papers that listed locations. “This is a lead they will not expect!” Then the redhaired Queen paused. “Though you know, we will have to see if we can narrow things down a bit.”

 

It turned out someone else had an idea for that.

“Hold still,” Leliana directed as she carefully applied lipstick to the Queen’s face.  “One would think you have never worn lipstick before. You will never pass for what you seek if you cannot handle a simple bit of make-up.”

“I’ve worn it twice!  Both times when you put it on me! Once for my wedding and once for my Coronation!” Torania fidgeted. “I like pretty dresses just fine not gunk on my face! What is in it! I don’t trust it!”

“This is the finest Ilsi Ales product from Orlais I will have you know, beeswax, Snoufleur tallow, Arbor Blessing seed oil, Prophet’s Laurel berries for color, and dragonthorn leaf extract to balance the mix!  At least that’s what I suspect is in it. Nobody really knows” The Nightingale moved onto applying rouge and eyeshadow. This Torania did not object to quite as much.”

“I don’t see the point,” Torania still grumbled. “We’ll be wearing masks anyway.”

Leliana sighed, 

“With make-up the contours of your face can be made to look as if they belonged to someone else. Masks will not do everything and I believe we should be careful.” She used a brush, treating the Queen’s face like her artist’s pallet.

“Careful is good,” Torania agreed, “I have no objections to that.  Just… If I get wet or sweaty and this makeup comes off it will be rather apparent I am trying to look like someone else will it not?”

“You do not need to worry about that. Ilsi Ales found a way to make her products water resistant. It is one of the reasons everyone goes to her now,” Leliana finished.

“Right.” Torania asked, “Who is this woman you keep mentioning?”

“She is an elf, who is a genius with cosmetics and beauty, She has caused quite a scandal in the Orlesian Court. ” Leliana stepped back from the Queen and walked over to the fire.

“Let me guess, the pointy ears were an iss- WHAT IS THAT!?” Torania yelled as Leliana walked back toward her with a strange metal instrument.

“I thought I would curl your hair,” the bard said innocently. “It is a good thing you never change your hairstyle. No one will recognize you without it.”

Torania eyed with trepidation what she was reasonably sure was a torture device. It was not that she was opposed to dressing up or looking her best. It was just that the Orlesian methods of looking good seemed to have been invented with the intent to torment. But really what did it matter if Leliana burned all her hair off.  It might get her a step closer to Alistair afterall.

“Alright do it.”

Miraculously  instead of burning off her hair the tool turned it into a mess of fancy red curls, which Leliana arranged carefully around her head. Next of course came the dresses.

“Leliana, this Society for the Restoration of Imperial Rule may be essentially a social club but it’s title implies treason. They can’t honestly all dress in the latest Orlesian styles,” Torania argued when the other woman told her they would have to dress in Orlesian clothing.

“Of course, but that does not mean we cannot add small Orlesian touches to our garments in order to show then we are in earnest,” the bard responded.

Small touches of course turned out to be a corset and many frills and bows. Torania made startled sounds as she bent about in her new clothing.

“It’s flexible.”

“Of course it is. It is only when ladies lace too tightly that corsets cause problems,” Leliana explained as she handed Torania a mask. She was dressed to match the Queen though her garments were slightly more Orlesian.

 

Like almost every Fereldan child Torania had been taught the story of Fereldan and Orlais. Unlike most children she was a noble so she had learned even more. The Orlesian empire Reville had invaded Ferelden in 8:24 Blessed and for twenty years the Orlesians had struggled to make their conquest a success. They finally succeeded due to the aid of a number of Ferelden nobles who were promised power and privileged places in the new regime.

For fifty-eight years after that Orlais held Ferelden as one of its provinces, extorting harsh taxes and denying both nobility and commoners their ancient rights. Power was maintained with brutal punishments for Fereldan collaborators, and legions of chevaliers.

When King Meghren came to the throne he started a reign of terror in utter contempt of his subjects. Maric Theirin, together with Loghain, had finally managed to drive out the invaders. That was the short version of the story most Fereldans knew.

But there was another story Torania had learned only after becoming Queen. During the entirety of the occupation enterprising Orlesian nobles would come to Denerim to seek fame and fortune, becoming the heart of the city’s aristocratic class. Many of these nobles were cut down by angry Ferelden mobs when Meghren fell.

Those that survived remained in Denerim and were required to swear allegiance to King Maric. They were forced to give back their lands, but most were compensated, based on what the gallant king felt was fair. Most of them were rich but landless and became merchants, changing their names in order to sound more Ferelden.

They went on to form the Society for the Restoration of Imperial Rule. However, the society was more a social club than anything else, its members not wishing to risk their lives on real treason. Or so Torania had thought. They controlled the Merchants Guild. Torania knew that. Briefly, she wondered if that’s what this was about. The tariffs she and Alistair had put on foreign goods to boost the economy.

“We need Orlesian code names. They use Orlesian code names.” Torania told the other woman. 

“Yes I am aware. I shall be Amarante and you are… Victoire.”

 

The Society for the Restoration of Imperial Rule met in a tightly locked warehouse near the docks. As they approached, Torania assumed the inside would be more impressive than the outside because from what she could see it was just one of the normal warehouses that merchants and crafters sometimes stored their goods in before they could ship them out.

She did not question Leliana when the other woman told her this was the place however.  She knew better than that. Maker knew how her friend had managed to get this information. Torania would not ask. She was not sure the other woman would tell her if she did. Need-to-know seemed to be the default policy with her friend these days.

As they got closer, skirting off the alley and around the corner so the man guarding the door became visible in the light of the lamps on either side of the entrance he stood just in front of, Torania had to conclude this was definitely the right place. It was rather brilliant actually. Who would question people bringing odd things to a shipping warehouse, and who would question merchants coming to check on their stock.

Still Torania guessed they changed location rather often so as not to attract too much attention.  She was still curious how Leiana had found the place. Don’t ask. Don’t ask. The Queen of Ferelden pulled her cloak closer around herself and over her fancy clothing as they walked up to the guard. She could feel her red curls bouncing beside her head.

 

Leliana spoke to the man in Orlesian. That bought them quick entry. Horrible security Torania noted. Unless this is a trap. It was amazing how Orlesian one could make the inside of a warehouse look. Silk and velvet wall hangings, fancy rugs, and lion statues. The tables were made of the finest stained wood and on them Torania could see all manner of foods. The little Orlesian cakes and pastries. How did they even make these she wondered. The drinks at least were familiar Ferelden fare. Warm apple cider, all served in ridiculously fancy Orlesian cups. Food, however, was not what they were here for.

Cross off as many locations and buyers on the list of deliveries as possible. That was the plan. The only problem was they had to do it without letting anyone know what they were up to.

Holding her hands like a noblewoman, she stood next to Leliana. She would let the other woman do the talking to start.  A well dressed man in a mask came swiftly up to them.

“New faces are like a drop of fresh water in a stagnant pond. I am eager to hear your names and how you found yourself flowing to our small oasis in the parched desert..”  If there was suspicion behind his question he hid it well.

 _Urgh..._ Torania thought. _Orlesians._

“But of course we would be happy to introduce ourselves. I am Amarante,” Leliana began, “and this is Victoire.  but how the water comes to an oasis is of no concern when compared to to many gifts it brings surely?.”

Torania could tell by the way the man’s eyebrows rose that he had  heard the hint of Orlesian in the female bard’s accent. That would be enough to get her accepted.

As for herself, she added in a low voice, “And the water that brings the oasis it’s bounty often comes from many sources. Some are not the sort discussed out in the desert sunlight.”

_Bloody Orlesians..._

His eyebrows rose even higher at that and he stepped aside.

Besides the overly ornate Orlesian décor Torania noted, The room was full of overly ornate Orlesian want-to-bes. How many of them knew about Alistair?

Before she could decide who to approach, the man from before came up to her. She saw Leliana in a corner chatting up some others before he blocked her view. Torania noted his tailored mustache beneath the mask. This was a rich man then. One who had hours to spend on his facial hair alone. His clothing was immaculate, barely even wrinkled from the activities of the night so far. Only his shoes showed any dirt. Likely from walking here. She flicked her black eyes up to meet his own. Blue. Intense and bright.

“I must confess Madame Victorie your statement earlier has left me intrigued,”

Of course it did. It meant she was likely a prostitute or some sort of criminal; both things he might wish to look into.

“Has it at that?” She raised an eyebrow.

“A certain aura of mystery becomes a woman,” the man replied.

Bloody Maker he was flirting. Torania wanted to punch him in the face but something told her that would not go over well.

“If I am sheathed in mystery sir, it is only because I seek to complement the mystery around me.” Torania let her eyelashes flutter. Maker, she felt sick.

“Mystery around you? Surely to one such as yourself such surroundings as ours are no puzzle.”

“Not so.” She took a step forward, pouting prettily. _After this she would murder something._ “For though you are surrounded by Orlesian fare, those I work for have none.”

She could see part of his clothing perk up. A low part of his clothing.

“Those who work for me are better rewarded _coquet_.”

__

Torania wanted to murder the entire warehouse.

“Perhaps… then… working for you is a superior career choice for many.” _Reach a hand out… do it woman… reach it out… just gently brush his arm…_ Torania was rather sure the gesture was forced but the man seemed not to notice.

“Perhaps we should talk about your career options then,” the man hinted.

“It would be a foolish bird who moves to an unproven nest from the one it knows works. Even if it does not work to their satisfaction.”   _She willed her eyes to shine with something akin to interest and not murder._

“Perhaps such a bird needs proof.”

“Perhaps.”

“Wait here for a moment my lady.”

The man vanished and as soon as he was gone Leliana appeared at her side. “So far we can cross two names and locations off the list.”

When Torania looked inquiringly at the other woman, a small smile appeared on the bard’s face. “I am trained for this sort of thing you know, and besides, the woman tend to be a bit more forthcoming than the men. “

Torania looked at the other woman. “Leliana can I murder him?”

“If you really want him dead I might be able to…”

“No no… more… beaten to a bloody pulp.”

“I’m afraid that would get us thrown out of the party.”

“Yes, I worried that might be the case.” Torania stopped herself from running her hands over her mask and face at the last moment, then remembered what Leliana had said about the make-up being waterproof. Surely it was smear proof too then. Of course she had already lowered her hands. She performed the gesture just to be stubborn.

The man returned to her, face eager, and Torania put on her best simpering smile. _Just imagine breaking his nose… or bashing his face in._ She was sure her smile got rather more genuine after that.

“I have spoken to my wife about arranging for you to attend a gathering at our summer retreat in Val Collines,” he informed her proudly.  “I think it will be a good time for us to get to know each other personally.”

And then the man when too far.  His hand reached forward to stroke her and passed dangerously close to her chest. Torania knew her breasts were rather subpar but that was not the point. 

She kept the simpering face on. Oh no it would not fade for an instant.

“Ser, I beg you remove your hand or you may find it rather broken.”

“What?”  He looked at her confused.

“If you think to have your way with me I must inform you you would die before you even entered the bedchamber. I have a man, I daresay, is a thousand times your worth in both character and sexual prowess.”

The man looked around at all his fellow Orlesian males with a jealous and suspicious gaze and Torania cracked. All the anger and rage of the past several weeks, all her raw emotion and worry, came together in a single furious punch. She heard a crunch and noted with satisfaction that she had likely broken the man’s jaw. The resulting howl split the party like a sword to butter. It was made clear they were rather unwelcome after that. Even Leliana could not get them back in.

 

“That was a foolish thing to do,” She scolded the Queen as they walked back to the palace.

“I’m sorry!  He touched me!  I didn’t even think. I lost it!” Torania replied.

“There are worse things than being touched you know for a bit of information,” the bard informed her.

“Next time I’ll be sure to tell that to my fists before we go undercover,” Torania Informed her. 


	9. The Point Of No Return.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Villain delivers an ultimatum.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edits by
> 
>  [HarbingerofWhimsy](http://archiveofourown.org/users/WhimsicalCivet/pseuds/HarbingerofWhimsy), [AlleiraDayne](http://archiveofourown.org/users/AlleiraDayne/pseuds/AlleiraDayne), & [the-dreamers-letters](http://the-dreamers-letters.tumblr.com/).

Aleandra Depruse rushed up, eyes aglow, as they removed the Orlesian clothing and curtsied properly as always. Her excitement however, was almost palatable. “We found something,” she announced. 

Torania drew a sharp intake of breath. 

“A lead!? What is it? Let me see. What did you find?” The queen looked fit to go charging out in her smalls and only stopped herself, forcing herself to put on something of substance, at the last moment. That done, she tore out, hand held before her almost as if to grab the good news and grasp it in her hands. “What did you find!?”

“It’s a letter to the king from his brother…” Aleandra told her. “In it he says he will be taking his daughter Marguerite and heading home to Orlais until the rebels settle down. He does not trust the sailors at this time of unrest, so will be leaving some of his family treasures in a chest in the Southron Hills Bannorn.”  


Torania frowned. She was starting to see a possible pattern. The Southron Hills Bannorn was unsurprisingly, in the south of Ferelden.

West of Gwaren and The White River, just south of White River Bannorn, and east of Ostagar, it lay in the very middle of the Southron Hills’s rocky highlands. Torania could not help but wonder, the Southron Hills Bannorn, White River Bannorn, and of course the Teyrn of Gwaren. All three next to each other.  


Ceadda Caycey: the new Teyrna of Gwaren. Torania and Alistair had chosen her because she formed a bridge. During the blight, Gwaren had been overrun by darkspawn. Loghain had done nothing to help any of his Teyrn. Most of Gwaren had lived only because they were able to sail away on their fishing ships. That was a betrayal that would not soon be forgotten. And yet as a commoner, Teyrn Loghain represented something. He had also been a hero to many people. And Teyrn was a very powerful position. It needed to be awarded to someone they could trust. And so they had found a perfect person.  


Ceadda Caycey: a commoner who had served Loghain, supported him and been there with him at Ostagar when he ordered her and the others away. A woman who had turned against him on her own and joined the rebellion against him. A woman who had proven her skills as a leader during that rebellion. A woman who had become a hero of that rebellion. So far she had proven herself a skilled and able trustworthy leader. Had she changed now?

And what of the Arl of the Southron hills himself? Arl Beniton. The man had supported Loghain in the landsmeet. He had come to power when Maric, Alistair’s father, killed the Bann’s mother in retribution for aiding in the plot to kill Maric’s mother, Queen Moria. Beniton had denounced the treachery of his mother at Maric’s demand in order to keep his lands. Was he keeping a grudge all these years?

In a way acts of treason now colored all these lands. Conspiracy was of course possible. But she didn’t want to assume that yet.

 

The people of the south where known for their bravery in the face of constant danger.  Once southern Ferelden had been a land of great beauty. Split by the regal elevated stone Imperial Highway. which was still beautiful even in its ruin. The south had been mostly hilly grasslands with large parts governed in wild, sometimes impenetrable forest. West of the Imperial Highway lay the Hinterlands, which were stunning enough, but to the east… to the east were the rocky highlands that made of the area known as Southron Hills. The bannorn was only part of this area, Ferelden naming conventions of course being a political art in and of itself. Torania had heard tales of majestic beauty. Of emerald grass as far as the eye could see, punctuated by rocky bluffs and hills that looked like waves coming out of the ground. Ferelden’s highlands were supposed to have an almost eerie beauty to them. More chapter book writers were supposed to have grown up here than in any other area of Ferelden. But as they traveled Torania did not see any of that

“Our clan used to come here from time to time…“ Ariane began. “Before it got all…”

“Blighted,” Torania finished. The land around them looked like it was struggling to hold onto its last breath of life. Grass was tinged brown, flowers bent over. Even the dirt of the road seemed somehow barren.

“This is the south,” Torania began. It always pained her. “This is the land the blight overtook and that has consequences. This is the thawing. It happens after every blight as the land comes back to life.”

“Only these lands were tainted for more than a year, unlike ours.” Finn cut in. “It hits the freeholders worse. They come back home to rebuild and crops won’t grow, not right at least  Back in the capital I heard there was talk of passing laws to ‘encourage’ people to produce more crops.”

The queen suddenly looked angry and unconsciously sped up her step. “How were we going to do that? Give them money from the treasury? Loghain drained it so much with his war that he tried to sell elves for slaves! Give them rewards for producing a certain amount of food? Fine the ones less hit by the blight who would be able to meet the quota and be rewarded while the ones whose land was thawing continued to suffer and starve!? People even spoke about building a university! Can you believe that!?” Torania continued to rant. “Before people have even finished rebuilding their homes the nobles wanted a university! People will starve but at least they will be educated!”

It felt good to rant for once, to let things out. The town of the southern bannorn lay in the shadow of a large striking highland rock. If all towns in Ferelden were animals, Torania thought this one would be a pig. She did not know why that animal came to mind but it did. They avoided crowds this time by using their traveling cloaks. Something that was made possible by the ample amount of fog.

They got into the bann’s palace with a simple show of Torania’s rings. The problem arrived once they were already inside, waiting in a dimly lit hallway covered in Fereldan wool tapestries. A small wrinkle formed between the queen’s brow. This was not how things were done. They should be ushered into the great hall.

“My Lord will meet with the queen only.” The woman who told them this was grey haired and dressed in reasonably fine clothing. A seneschal perhaps?

“This is very abnormal,” Leliana objected

“It’s because of me, isn’t it?” asked Ariane.

“Noooo, I’m sure they have dalish elves all the time… perhaps… sort of… well not really,” Finn cut in.

“Could be perfect for assassination,” Zevran added.

“I’m sure the Bann will not object to leaving the door open so the others can see us,” Torania growled.

Bann Beniton was an old man, or at least, he looked it. She was tempted to ask how old he really was, but she didn’t. With white hair and a balding head he looked more nervous than anything to see the queen he had once voted against in the Landsmeet. That did not stop his eyes from traveling up her body slowly and she hoped to his utter disappointment because Maker knew she didn’t have much going for her in the way of hips or breasts. When his eyes finally met her face she gave him her best intense queenly look.

]

“Your… Your Majesty, I have not seen you since the Landsmeet during the blight.”

“Yes, when my husband proved his worthiness by defeating the tyrant Loghain in honorable combat.”

It had been a good call on her part; a necessary one, though utterly terrifying to choose Alistair as her champion to fight the man. It was not that she did not believe in him. Maker knew the man was skilled and Loghain had been sitting on his arse for a while. Also Alistair might look just enough like his father to make Loghain hesitate just a bit when actually fighting him. It had been all the what-ifs. The fact that Loghain was the Hero of River Dane. Torania was pretty sure she had held her breath the entire fight, numb with fear, but it had been the right call. Loghain had even commented on how Alistair had some of his father in him after all before the entire Landsmeet before Alistair had killed him. And most importantly it had been Alistair who had been the one who fought: Alistair who proved his worth by way of ancient tradition.

 

“Yes… though I have to confess I did wonder at that victory.”

Torania blinked at him. It had been pretty clear to her when Loghain’s head got cut off.

“I mean that is was most fortunate.”

Her eyes narrowed when she realized what he was accusing them of and she fought to control her temper. “Yes, it was fortunate. Some have suggested that the Maker himself was behind my husband that day.” It was a lie. She had never thought of it before but she would make sure that rumor got swirling soon when this was all over.

“Your Majesty, I heard that Bann Reginalda…” He trailed off.

“Bann Reginalda is being held for treason, yes.” Torania met his eyes squarely

“Your Majesty, I have known the Bann for many years. I beg for mercy on her behalf.”

“She is being held my order because it has not yet been decided what shall be done with her. A large part depends on the outcome of her little escapade.” The truth was it did largely depend on one thing: if Alistair lived or died. If he lived then Torania and Alistair might be inclined to show mercy, especially in light of the woman’s cooperation. If he died, then Torania would never forgive her and she would die.

“Why have you come here… surely you don’t think that I…?” The man challenged her.

“We are looking for a chest,” Torania explained. “From the time of the occupation.”

He seemed to weigh her with his gaze. Torania met his eyes squarely.

“I don’t know of such a chest! But my mother kept some old things in the chantry… I have no interest in them.” His eagerness to distance himself from his mother was rather apparent.

Torania paused for a moment. “Bann Beniton. I understand why you voted against us in the Landsmeet. And I understand why you might have hesitations about us now. But we are the king and queen of Fereldan. I have no desire to be your enemy.  Whatever the personal feelings are, let’s not make it about them. Let’s make it about helping the people of Southern Hills. I can also remind you that you have a lot more to gain personally by not being an enemy.”

Bann Beniton grimaced. “Your Majesty, you are less than half my age, you do not need to school me on duty.” 

“I trust not.” Torania countered. “I am merely reminding you that I do mine as well.”

“That remains to be seen.” He shot a pointed look at her flat belly

Torania could have ripped his eyes out at that comment. Maker, it stung, because above all it was true. Instead she swept out of the hall, resisting the urge to slam the door behind her.

“So where to next?” Leliana asked.

“Chantry,” Torania spat.

 

It turned out all that was needed to get one access to the vaults of the Southron Hills Chantry was a hefty bribe. The place was average sized for a chantry of a fairly important Bann, with plenty of brothers and mostly sisters mulling about. Many were saying the Chant, others reading, attending to the holy blazers that represented the Maker’s light, or completing various menial tasks. The templars glowered at Finn, making him move closer to the group. Torania walked straight to the Grand Cleric. The woman stood out by having the fanciest robes alone. In all others matters she was rather plain.

“We need to access the vaults,” Torania told her bluntly. She was in no mood to mince words.

“Greetings, my child. Welcome to the… oh?” The Cleric broke off mid sentence blinking and looking a bit taken aback.

“It’s rather important,” The Queen assured her with a slight nod of her head.

 

“Your Majesty, as important as this must be, the vault is where we house the Chantry’s greatest treasures... Not that we have much… I wish we had more funds at the moment… We could get better windows… or feed more of the needy.”

“I will give you ten sovereigns if you let me into those vaults.”

“I suppose we could make an exception,” the Cleric concluded. “So will you need a guide?”

 

They did not need a guide.

“So I suppose what can be gathered from this is that anyone with coin could have accessed these vaults?” Leliana spoke as they descended the stairs.

“Do shems always have such horrible security?” Ariane asked.

“Only the greedy ones,” Zevran answered. “So a great many, yes.”

The chantry vaults were cool and dark: the kind of place where moss and mildew loved to gather. It didn’t take long to find the chest they needed among the others. It was the only one that was green and had the Dufayel coat of arms on it. Not to mention the fact that it had a flaming brazier on either side. If whoever had hidden it had been going for inconspicuous, they failed horribly.

Torania pounced on the chest like a kitten with their very first mouse. Her lockpicks were in her hand before anyone else had a chance to see her moving. The lock mechanism was only slightly challenging and the chest opened rather quickly under her will.

The first thing that happened was that the Queen took in a rather sharp gasp of breath. Her hand trembled as she reached down and pulled out the neatly folded cloth stained almost completely with blood. With her other hand she reached for and picked up the folded piece of paper. Her eyes read over it as she read it by the brazier light, then her hand gave a tremble and the note fell into the flames

“Blast!” Torania swore. “I’m… I’m so sorry… It's just my hands… It’s… it’s alright though… I memorized the map for us!”

 

Of course, there had been no map. That had been a lie. The Queen of Ferelden winced with each step she took out of their camp that night, sure that Zevran and Leliana had seen through her, that they would descend upon her at any moment. She had acted her part well in camp, distraught hands continuing to tremble, but surely someone had seen through it. Both her companions from the blight especially knew what she was capable of. But as she reached the edge of their campsite, passing Finn and Ariane’s tents, Torania started to realize that they hadn’t caught onto her. For some reason Zevran and Leliana was not figured it out. Perhaps they had thought that in her frantic state  seeing the bloody cloth, she would not be capable of such a thing. They were wrong. Or perhaps she thought they thought she was a good strong queen, one who would not risk throwing Ferelden into chaos to save her husband.  As it turned out they were wrong about that too.

_Dear The Dog Lord Queen,_

_If you read this, I expect you have put things together. I hope you enjoyed our little game. In Orlais I never got to play the game, you know. After you dog lords took back Ferelden we were disgraced. No one wanted to interact with a girl from the Dufayel family. No one wanted to marry one. We still had our wealth though. When my father died I knew just what to put it to. Revenge.  But the game is not yet over. Yes, the blood is his if you are wondering. I mean your husband, of course. If you don’t want me to spill the rest of it, you will come to the location I provide, alone. If you bring anyone else or fight back once you are there, I will kill him. Do what I say and perhaps this will not be a game to the death. I am making the rules now_!

She would do it. As soon as Torania read the note, something inside her knew she would do it.

She had wanted to know the answer before: if she would choose Ferelden or Alistair. Turns out she had it. It was Alistair. Really, did she think it could be any other way? This did not feel like a dagger but more like a sword plunged into her chest. She was failing her parents, she was failing Ferelden, in many ways she was failing herself. But there could be no other option. Alistair. Always Alistair.

Oh well. No one could hate her more for this then she hated herself. No one could call her a horrible irresponsible queen who failed her nation more than she knew she was already.

She took precautions, leaving behind a letter with all her gear: one that instructed the others to go to the Teryna of Gwaren, and mentioned the locations gained from Penetra, and also named Teagan as heir should they die.  


And despite all, it was _should_ they die. That was still an if in her mind, because despite all her berating of herself Torania had not given up on the idea of eventually winning yet. Not in her nature, she supposed. She felt a bit of self-satisfaction with this at least.

Slowly as she got out of range, Torania stopped the careful sneaking steps. Instead she lifted her head high, eyes clear and full of purpose and walking in brisk powerful strides. They wanted the queen? They would get her. And they would find that even with no friend and no weapons, even all but helpless, Torania would still be Torania: a woman whose very demeanor could demand their respect.  


Despite all the regret, this was in a strange way a relief. This was something she could do: an action. Something concrete, something real, something direct.

 

She met the mercenaries or soldiers or whatever they were in a lightly forested area just out of sight of the Hill Road. Her leather boots sunk an inch into the mud with each step and the light rain had turned into a downpour that left her soaked despite her oilskins. _Almost like the sky is trying to set the mood,_ she thought wryly.

The men were huddled together and Torania could hear them before they saw her.

“Blasted Fereldan rain. How much longer do we have to put up with this?”

“I don’t know, but the Queen will come!”

“What if she doesn’t…? What if she brings help? What if she fights?”  


“She won’t! We have the King, remember?”

Torania walked into view. “Sooooooo, can I still point out that if you ditched your fancy armor for Fereldan fur, you would be a lot better off?” she asked them. “Or is sass forbidden as well?”  


The leader looked her up and down. He was a tall man with an eyepatch and a rough sandy beard. “How do we know you are the Queen?”

Torania waved her signet ring under his nose haughtily “Well, there is this. Also there is the fact that there are not that many small, black-eyed redheads running around. I would love to give you a demonstration of my abilities but unfortunately, your mistress said that was against the rules.”

One of them pulled ropes and a blindfold out of a pack. Torania stepped backward

“First, Alistair! Is he alright?” she demanded.  


The men only laughed at her and stepped closer.

“You _will_ tell me,” she informed them.

“You aren’t my queen,” one shot back.  


“I don’t care whose bloody queen I am! Just _tell_ me!” Torania snapped.  


In the end they refused to tell her and she actually went along with it. _They’ll take me to him. They have to take me to him._

 

They tied her up and blindfolded her to take her wherever they were going. Good, she thought at the blindfold. They were scared she might get out of this alive and didn’t want her to know the way to the location. The walk began. Every time she stumbled seemed to provide marvelous amusement for her captors. She was pretty sure their only disappointment was that she never fell flat on her face on the uneven ground. In time the mud gave way to solid earth. Torania lost all sense of where they were going. She hoped that they were disappointed that she did not tire. _What you think I’ve been sitting on my arse since I took the throne?_

She could tell they had reached a structure of some sort when the ground under her feet grew smooth without even a door opening. Bloody Maker, how many chateaus in Ferelden did this woman have? How much coin had she spent on this game of revenge?  


Her time with her escort was almost over but Torania had a question for them first. “You lot know that people who mess with me tend to fail horribly, right? And it often goes very badly for them. So why are you doing this for her and risking everything? Surely gold. Even lots of it is not worth your lives.” To be honest, Torania was a bit insulted. She had capitalized on the natural awe and respect gained from defeating an archdemon to make herself the living scourge of anything that threatened Ferelden and thus keep tales of herself circulating enough to make enemies think twice before invading.

“Ah, but this is different,” the man responded as a door opened and she was marched inside. “No Fereldan will ever be able to beat an Orlesian at the game.” Torania did not reply. That was what the lady was doing, wasn’t it? A sick twisted version of the game? But if the men thought no Orlesian could be beaten by a Ferelden, she would just have to prove them wrong.

They walked along several hallways, possibly through rooms. Torania tried to keep track but was soon hopelessly lost in what she was sure was was a rather sizable building. Finally, she was  shoved into a chair. The blindfold was removed through the ropes stayed on. _Wise move,_ Torania thought. She was able to see right away. The cloth of the blindfold had been light colored and Torania had kept her eyes open so that light could shine through it to them. Torania noted she was sitting across a desk form a blond middle aged woman dressed in Orlesian clothing.  This she assumed could only be…

“Margurite Dufayel.” Torania concluded.

“And here comes the Queen.” Margurite watched, her fingertips pressed together. Her lip was curled back in contempt and yet there was something akin to curiosity and interest in her eyes.

“Well, you made sure of that, didn’t you? Where is Alistair?” Torania demanded.

“I don’t really feel like telling you.” The woman gave her a soft smile.

Torania took a deep breath. She could either explode or… play the game. “You are a fool.”

The woman flushed. “I dragged you all across your own nation! I made you give yourself up! The great Hero of Ferelden, Torania Cousland Theirin surrendered without a fight! You would not even be here, you know, if you had not married him! I would have no interest in you! Who is the fool!?”

“Yes that’s exactly the point. You think I was a fool to marry him!? Ha! You could not marry at all!”  


Margurite shook. “How dare you…?”

“I’m an uncultured Ferelden dog lord, remember?” Torania reminded her. “Shall I switch to another mode? Lets go bitch queen, then.

Torania smiled at her captor.

“Throughout this wild goose chase, I have seen one thing. Money. Countless amounts of money. Money spent on chateaus, restoring them, supplying the men inside of course and hiring those men. That must have cost a huge amount. So I’m going to assume that though your family got sent away from court, they retained their wealth and now you are using it all on this. But here is my question. Those men were not all mercenaries. We were fighting chevaliers. Can you do the traditional villain monologue and explain how you got chevaliers who I know value their honor, and would not fight for money, to fight for you? I promise I will not do the traditional escape while you are talking. I don’t think I’d get very far unarmed and with the guards I assume are behind my back anyhow!”

“I’m not the villain!” The woman’s voice rose shrilly.

“None the less, would you mind explaining for this _simple Ferelden?”_

For a moment the woman looked like she would refuse, but Torania had counted on her need to gloat–just like every villain, and she had counted on it right.

“The chevaliers were easy enough to manipulate,” Marguite gloated. “I am a member of the royal family, however distant. And this is about restoring lost honor for a chevalier. What prospect could be more appealing?”

“But you did not tell them what you intended in the end and none of them are the ones here,” Torania pushed. “I might disparage Orlais privately but my parents were very much of the opinion that we must focus on peace. My father even traveled there. Another war with Orlais would only hurt us both, so I continue their policy. See I learned about Orlais. I learned about the chevaliers.” Torania leaned forward as far as the ropes would allow.  “They have rules about how to treat their enemies. If you have hurt or do hurt my husband, if you do the same to me… any remaining chevaliers would have unwittingly broken those rules. They will have to come after you, you know. We should settle this honorably. Find a champion and have them fight me!”

Even as she finished speaking Marguerite was already shaking her head, her exquisitely manicured finger tapping the side of her face. “Perhaps I don’t expect them to find out. Perhaps I can take comfort in the fact that you and your little group killed most, if not all of them. Or perhaps...” Her gaze flicked down and to the left momentarily before she met Torania’s eyes head on with her own. “Perhaps I don’t even care.” A slow smile was spreading over the Orlesian woman’s face. “Perhaps all I want if for you to suffer as much as possible. Perhaps I want you to have the pain you deserve!” She looked slightly deranged.

Torania wondered if she saw the disgust on her face because the next moment the woman waved her hand, addressing the mercenaries. “Take her to her husband and then you can go drink yourselves silly. I have more coming for them tomorrow.”

Torania did not fight back as the men untied her. Instead her heart started to beat frantically in her chest as they grabbed her by either arm. As they led her down a few hallways, Torania could not focus on her surroundings. She had said take her to her husband! The men paused to open and close a heavy locked metal door and for a moment she could feel her heartbeat in her ears. But on the other side was just another hallway.  Double security? she told herself, trying to calm her frantic raging mind. Then they led her down that hallway and to another door of the same type, unlocking it and opening it just enough to shove her inside before it thumped shut again. And then she saw him.


	10. Even The Strong Shall Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Torania is finally reunited with her husband.

“Alistair.” Warm blissful relief thudded through her body. He was dirty. He was covered in bruises and had a black eye, and he smelled, and not like cheese or wet dog… He was so beautiful.

Alistair scrambled to his feet and Torania threw her arms around the man. “Oh Alistair!” She buried her face in the astonished king’s chest. “Oh my sweet, sweet man!” She felt his arms wrap around her. Enveloping her like a warm fur cloak. Then he twirled her. Her feet flew off the ground as she swirled and he laughed, laughing out loud before freezing and growing sober.

“Tori! But this means…” His voice grew rough with emotion. “Oh no. They captured you, too.”

“I sacrificed myself actually,” she corrected him, then paused. “I’m sorry, Alistair. But when she gave me a bloody rag and a note saying ‘come to this location alone or else I will spill a lot more’, for me there was no other option!” She looked up at him pleadingly “I love you and I am allowed to be an idiot for your sake.” She paused for a split second more. “I know you though. You will probably feel guilty and bad I sacrificed myself for you… Sorry about that. I would stop you from feeling that if I could… But I can’t! I love you and I… I need you! I can’t lose you… and… and… And you would to the exact same thing! So there! Ha!” She was crying by now and instead of responding he swept her up bridal style and kissed her nose.

“Tori.” It was a confirmation more than anything else. She buried her face in his chest more as he sat down with her in his lap and stroked her hair.

Torania finally looked up at him. “I’m going to get us out of here you know.”

“I know you will,” he told her. “But this hardly Fort Drakon.”

“I know!” she exclaimed in mock outrage, her eyes dancing wickedly as she held onto him. “The Ferelden national prison has worse security than some Orlesian’s private dungeon! The shame!”

Alistair was starting to grin. His Tori. “We’ll have to do something about that… Hmm, I’ve got it. I’ve got it! We decorate the entire place Orlesian style! The prisoners will be so horrified by the lack of taste that they will repent their lives of crime forever and go to raise nugs on nug farms or some such!”

Torania shook her head mournfully. “We can’t do that. If we tell Leliana we sent criminals to the nugs farm she would kill us… we’ll have to use cows instead.”

Alistair gasped as if mortally offended. “But the cow farms produce the cheese… is that what they are even called? Cow farms… dairy farms… regular farms…”

“Mooey farms…?” Torania grinned.

“So we send all the criminals to the mooey farms! Brilliant… wait! Those are still the ones that make the cheese!”

Torania tapped her chin. “Rams? Wait, they also make cheese… chickens!”

“But I like chicken too,” Alistair whined.

“That’s the problem with farms. They produce food. We need to send the traumatized criminals somewhere else.”

“We send them to… Oh, I don’t know… We could always send them home to their mothers?”

“Yes!” Torania tried not to laugh clapping her hands “Brilliant!”

Alistair pulled his wife into a tighter hug. “Maker, but I’ve missed you woman,” he whispered roughly.

It was like a fire had been lit inside the Queen again. He was alive. Oh Maker, he was alive. She reached up, way up and stroked his cheek in turn. Suddenly her other hand was running down his chest. She could feet the hard tense muscles of his torso. “You’ve missed me? Show me then.” His lips met hers as she tilted her head up and she could feel his arms reposition themselves, pulling her closer. His tongue entered her mouth and hers began to explore his. There was a low moan. She was not sure if it came from her or him. And when her mind demanded air, she ignored it, focusing instead on Alistair… Alistair… Oh Alista-

She came too with his anxious face staring down at her. “Tori?” he sounded slightly relieved, and mostly alarmed. “Tori, they must have hurt you. They…”

“I’m fine!” She sat up abruptly. “I just need to remember to breathe during kisses.”

“Need to remember to… Maker’s breath, woman!”

“I don’t suppose you will let this go if I point out you are irresistible?”

Alistair considered for a moment. “No! You scared me half to death! I refuse to kiss you for… For the rest of the day!”

Torania gave him her best pout.

“Nuh-uh. Not going to work.”

She pouted more.

He grinned leaning against the wall. “Nope, no kisses. I mean it!”

“What about… other things?” She ran a hand down and up his thigh.

Alistair let out a slight moan. The King was flushing at the neck. “You are a minx. You know that, right?” He whispered the words.

“It’s your own fault for refusing to kiss me,” she reminded him.

He held her close. His Tori. “Alright woman I relent….. Let’s do both.”

It was ridiculous of course. This was probably their last night on Thedas, and all she could do was touch him: feel the from-earlier muscles of his chest. The scars she had memorized as much as the feel of his skin.

“It’s really you.”

“Yes.”

For once he didn’t elaborate with a witty remark. He was too busy taking the leather armor off of her. She helped him. Then leaned her head back as his hands ran over her thighs, her chest, her breasts.

“Alistair.” His mouth was on hers and she was kissing him back, long and hard. She leaned in against him and he wrapped his arms around her. “You’re alive.”

“Last time I checked,“ he reassured her. “You know if this is our last night on Thedas, we really should spend it doing something worthwhile.” The tone of his voice left no doubt as to just what ‘worthwhile’ entailed. Torania had no objections. She was taking his shirt off and then his pants. He was taking off what remained of her clothing. Then they were laying on the cold damp floor of the cell. She wrapped an arm around him, holding him firmly as he entered her, kissing along her neck. Her hand was running through his hair and tracing his spine. The girth of his lamppost pressed against the edges of her winter with the kind of pressure that felt almost as if one was riding the essence of the wildness of the waves of the ocean and yet was snug and secure as the most warm embrace.

She was truly the most beautiful woman, Alistair thought. Some part of Alistair’s mind knew that his wife was not the most traditional beauty. Some part of him knew she was not the most beautiful woman in the world if one looked objectively. But what did that matter? What did that matter when he could run his hands through her fiery hair? See the love in her dark black eyes, and feel her skin against his. What did that matter in the face of the woman who was so many things? Perfect. Alistair didn’t want a traditional beauty; he did not want a gentle woman either. Yet at the same time he wanted a woman to be gentle with him when it counted. It was a contradiction. He wanted a contradiction. He was a contradiction. And so was Torania. She had a fire, but the kind of fire that could be a warm kindled flame as well as a raging inferno. As his hands ran over her naked form he felt like he was touching a miracle. How could such a small body hold the energy that was his wife?

Neither noticed the coldness of the floor, their bodies intertwined in the passion of two lovers finally reunited. Torania closed her eyes taking in the taste of him. His mouth traveled slowly along her smooth skin, pausing in turn on each of her nipples which perked up even more than before. And then his eyes met hers with the look that made her have to remind herself to keep breathing.

Torania arched her back and let out a low vibrating moan as he started to move his hips more. She moved a bit too. What was the point of being flexible if you didn’t use it, after all? She let him take command for a while. Closing her eyes and losing herself in the rise and fall of the feeling inside her. Then she felt his lips on her breasts. Oh, Maker. Her man.

Torania tried to hold herself back. She wanted more breast kissing, but the feeling inside her was a fire roaring to a crescendo. Her eyes snapped open and she swiveled. He went along with it, letting himself be flipped into his back. She was in charge now. Her lips trailed up and down his chest as the crescendo faded back to the pulsing good feelings of before.

Torania continued to kiss all over him. Sometimes lightly, sometimes firmly. She heard her name moaned a few times but did not stop. Then she was on her back again, and he was touching her, stroking her, kissing her breasts again as she arched her back slightly.

“Alistair.”

“Torania.”

She locked her legs around him and started stroking his face. Then she let her hand sweep down his back, her fingertips lightly dancing across the skin. He let out another low moan, then grabbed her face, kissing her passionately.

Torania let out the slightest hint of a squeak and him kissed in back, her arms wrapping around the back of his neck. Their bodies continued to butt, but they were pressed against each other now, neither willing to let go. The royal couple lost track of time: caressing, touching, feeling the miracle of each other.

Things came to a head and he started yelling her name. Like before, his hands could not seem to get enough of her, but there was a greater intensity to it now. Alistair’s mouth explored her body with the ardor of a drowning man. And then with one last shout it was done. She nuzzled against his chest and he wrapped his arms around her, body heat protecting them, guarding against the chill of the dungeon.

“Mmmmm, I’ve missed this.”

Torania grinned at him. “You have no idea.”

”Actually, I think I do.” He ran a hand through her hair, the other wrapped tightly around her.

Torania buried her face in his chest. They lay for awhile longer before he finally ventured, “You know, when they come in tomorrow, I don’t think two naked royals is exactly what they expect to see.”

“I don’t care,” Torania murmured somewhere from his sternum.

“Alright,” he chuckled. “Indulge me. Let us at least put on our smallclothes, lest the sight of those men seeing you stark naked drive me mad with jealousy.”

Torania agreed to this but then insisted on being held once more before obliging. Alistair did not seem to mind. He had the same instinct. They lay down on the floor together, their body heat keeping each other warm in the absence of their clothing.

 

Ceadda Caycey-no, it was bleedin’ Teyrna Ceadda Caycey-was honestly surprised when her senechal told her that a group had come to visit her in the Queen’s name.

 _Well…_ she thought. _That was plenty fast._ She stood, her brown dress touching the floor as she rose from her throne. Her hair bounced as she walked down the dais. There were those who said that the new Teyrna’s short bouncing ringlets of copper curls reflected the woman herself.

The group that was ushered into her great hall was not what she would expect. She exchanged a look with the newly returned Ser Cauthrien. There was a dalish elf, a man who looked to be a mage, another elf-a rouge that one-and the teenager standing beside him, and in front a woman with the symbol of an eye on her armor.

“Ya know… when I wrote to Denerim about things, I was not actually expecting anyone to come here. It was more an informing sort of thing,” she informed them, sitting back down on her big chair.

The group looked confused and Ceadda realized something else must be going on.

“Your Ladyship,whatever the grievances that cause you to write to the capital, we offer sympathy, but at the moment we have a crisis.” The woman with the eye armor seemed to speak for the group.

“The queen has been taken!” The blond elf seemed to be in no mood for pleasantries.

“Taken? What do you mean, taken!?” Cauthrien demanded.

“We believe that she was lured to a location. Possibly the same one as her husband.”

“So the king is gone, too!?”

“Before she left she wrote saying we should come to you, that you would know the land best,” Finn put in. “Is that true? I figure you might have the resources, but…”

The Teyrna exchanged a look with Cauthrien. It was widely known whom the other woman had supported in the war; that she had stayed by Loghain’s side up until the end. Until right outside the Landsmeet chamber, in fact. Cauthrien had always been a woman dedicated to her duty to the realm and her superiors above everything, even her own conscience, and that’s why by the time she had turned it had been too late and the blood had already been on her hands.

That was the difference between the two of them, Ceadda supposed. Cauthrien was in many ways a broken woman. That was clear. And perhaps that was why when she asked to reform Maric’s Shield, the personal guard of the Teyrn of Gwaren, Ceadda had let her. She tended to use the group to look into things however, more than anything else.

Both Cauthrien and Ceadda heard the traces of Orlesian in Leliana’s voice when she first spoke, of course, but it was Cauthrien who addressed it first. “You are obviously of Orlesian descent.” She did not seem to recognize Leliana’s armor. “What is an Orlesian doing searching for the Queen of Ferelden?”

They had heard stories of the infamous Sister Nightingale. Trust was another issue entirely.

“The queen is my dear friend and we fought in the blight together,” Leliana replied. Unlike some of the group that stopped the blight, she had not met Cauthrien before. “And I will do whatever I can to help rescue her and Alistair both.”

“Is now really the time for this?” The male elf’s tone was scathing. “Sort out your differences later. We have a woman to save.”

“Cauthrien has discovered many Orlesian shipments going to several locations in the south under different probably false names,” Ceadda cut in quickly. “We will go to those.”

“We have with us a list of possible locations, several of which we have crossed off a possibilities,” Leliana replied, holding up the paper. “We should compare and contrast.”

 

Torania was like a dragon as they were marched along from their cell to who knew where. “Do you want me to tell you again what I plan to do to your mistress when I get my hands on her? And I will get my hands on her.”

“No, ma’am.” The man leading them looked slightly nauseous. Alistair almost felt sorry for him. He knew to tune her out when she was like this. He knew, at least he was pretty sure, she would never do it.

They reached a door. “So you are moving us to another cell or…?” he asked almost hopefully. He could see his wife stiffen from behind as the men went to open it. She would not be worried about them torturing her, oh no. He knew that much. He, on the other hand, would be another matter, which was why she was refusing to look at him. It might give her worry away to the men and give them ideas if they did not have them already.

As for Alistair, as far as he was concerned, they could torture him all they liked as long as they kept their hands off his wife. He cleared his throat. “Are you sure this is the right place?” It was a lame effort at stalling, but then what did he expect?

“This is where we leave you in more capable hands.” The guard looked relieved to finally be able to shove the savage woman and her husband inside. Torania promptly looked around the room at the men inside it and started being herself. “Oh good. Ugly one, and ugly two. And I’ll call you over there Flatface and you Bob.”

“My name is Stefon.”

“Of course, Bob,” she continued to goad them.

Alistair opened his mouth to bluff then shut it with a wince. Lying and saying he did not know who Torania was and that they must have caught the wrong person hardly worked when people must have heard their activities the night before. He was relieved at least as he looked around. They seemed to be in some sort of washroom. There were no cruel torture devices; just a pole near the wall and a washtub near the corner. Bob and Flatface grabbed him. Alistair struggled and managed to punch one of the men in the eye. If the Maker had any justice, this would be the man who had given his own colorful face.

“You little!” the man growled at him.

“Not so little. I’m taller then you are,” He informed the smaller man. Huh, perhaps his wife was rubbing off on him.

“GET YOUR BLOODY MOTHER-SCREWING HANDS OFF HIM!” Well, that was a new one. Torania started fighting tooth and nail but without her weapons in a confined space there was not much she could do. Everyone in the room was physically stronger than her at the moment. As they grabbed her he felt anger well up inside him.

“Hey, leave her alone! Why don’t you pick on me?” He was gratified when most of the men did indeed seem to focus on him They made him kneel before the pole and pulled his arms backwards, one on either side of it. Then they bound his wrists together.

Torania was obviously scared of what they would do to her captive husband. “DON’T YOU TOUCH HIM! I’ll tell you exactly what I’ll do to you all if you so much as lay a finger on him!”

“I’m fine, Tori!” They could beat him as much as they wanted. He just hoped her goading didn’t make them lose control and turn on her.

“Oh, we’re not interested in torturing HIM love.” The men looked at the washtub and leered at Torania. Torania and Alistair’s eyes followed their gaze to the object in the corner. They both realized what the men intended to do with it at the same time. This was no washroom.

“NO!” He yanked against the ropes.

“Please, I’ll spit the water in your bloody faces!” she shot at them, but they were already dragging her over to the tub. She fought but it was no use.

“What do you want?” Alistair asked them, straining against the bindings. “The lady who hired us was very specific! She wants secrets; Fereldan secrets.”

“Alistair! Don’t you dare! Don’t you-” Torania broke off as her head was shoved into and held in the water. She thrashed.

“Stop!” He pulled on the ropes, trying to reach his struggling wife and the men holding her.

“Maker, you are all ugly! Your mother must have been part nug!” Let them turn on him. Let them turn on him and leave her alone. “And not the cute kind. The stinky kind! That must be why you smell so awful. It’s making me dizzy!”

The men let go of Torania’s head. She raised it with something like murder in her eyes.

“Your husband thinks he is a funny man.”

True to her word Torania responded by spitting water at him. He backhanded her and Alistair struggled harder. He could feel the ropes cutting into his wrists.

“That was just a little taster,” the man informed Torania.

“Yes, well that’s all well and lovely, but I do so think you might regret this when I murder you all!” she replied, but he was not listening, having turned back to Alistair.

“Now,” the man told him. “You are going to tell me Ferelden secrets. Oh, and Stefon over there is trained to spot a lie.”

“No, he won’t,” Torania snapped. “Alistair, I trust you! You won’t-” She broke off as her head was shoved under again.

“Secrets! NOW!”

“I’m a bastard!” he told them.

“Everyone knows that,” Flatface snapped.

His eyes were locked on Torania. She was still struggling. “I don’t know any…”

“You are the King!”

“That’s right, I am! Let her go! I can give you anything: money, titles, you name it!” he pleaded.

“The lady who hired us said you’d say that.”

Was the struggling getting weaker?

“Actually, he’s telling the truth,” Stefon informed the other men.

“Of course he is now, but his promise don’t count for nothing!” one of the others countered.

Her struggles were definitely getting weaker.

“Please, I give you my word!” he begged.

“We could…”

“No! Word of high-ups don’t count for little folk like us!”

“Then why are we trusting the other lady?” Ugly Two asked.

“Because she already payed us half, you idiot!”

They turned to him. “Nice try.”

Torania’s struggled had subsided to an agonizingly weak level.

He had to save her. For Alistair, there was no other option. He would do anything. There was a secret, he realized. Something he could tell them to make him let go of Tori. Maker, she was going to kill him.

“I had a baby with an apostate who has the soul of an old god!” he informed the group.

“Right. Like we’d believe that,” Ugly One scoffed.

He looked at them flabbergasted. They didn’t believe him?

“It’s true!” Alistair insisted desperately.

Only feeble movements now.

“He doesn’t seem like he’s lying.” Stefon seemed uncertain.

“Seem is not good enough. Which one is it?!”

“I can’t always tell perfectly! Some people are good at lying, but I’d say he’s not lying!”

“That’s ridiculous. Of all the stories…” Flatface shook his head.

“We should tell her! See what she thinks,” Ugly Two suggested.

“Yeah, alright” Ugly One agreed.

The men let go of Torania and left the room. The door locked with a click.

Lift your head up, he thought. They are not holding you down now. This can’t be happening this isn’t happening.

Torania was face down in the water now, not moving.

“COME BACK!” he shouted. “YOU FORGOT TO PULL HER UP!”

Panic. More panic.

No, think, Alistair. Think. Concentrate… Think…

Through his panic and fear an idea struck him. Alistair scooted backwards, feeling desperately for a particularly rough patch of wall. He was surprised by his own brilliance. He rubbed the rope against it trying to cut through.

It was torture watching her face down in the water like that while he slowly cut through the rope. More than anything physical they could have done to him, this was true torture.

The last bit of rope broke with an audible snap and Alistair flew to her, pulling her into his arms, but the Torania he cradled to him was unresponsive. Her eyes shut as she flopped where he yanked her to him

“It’s alright … I’ve got you…” he told her. That was when he noticed she was not breathing.

A light roaring started to fill his ears.

”What? No! Breathe!” he urged the limp body in his arms. He rubbed the still chest vigorously. A panic and dread that felt like a stone in his chest started to well up inside him. “Breathe!” he urged. But Torania did not breathe. Alistair shook her terror lacing his voice. “No! Come on, woman, breathe!” Nothing. Pale-faced, she lolled in his arms.

He heard himself laugh weakly

“This is some sort of joke right? You’re not dead. You can’t be dead.” The grin slid from his face “Oh, no. Maker, no.” He shook her again harder this time. “Tori, breathe. Please? Just… just a little breath… just for me… Come on! You’re… you’re not going to leave me over something like this! You can’t! You won’t! You wouldn’t! You wouldn’t leave me!”

Alistair had always been afraid of losing her to a dragon or something. He had never considered something like this. “Tori, please.” His voice shook. Another shake. “You can’t, you just… you just can’t… can’t…You would not let them kill you!” Despair was starting to fill him. “Tori…” He smoothed her damp hair. “I’ll do anything. Please… just give me something…”

The world had slowed to a stop. There was only him and her.

“Tor… Torania, I need you with me,” he whispered. “Don’t go… please don’t go… Don’t be like Duncan… Please don’t be like Duncan…” His voice broke. “You’re my wife! Tori, I need you! You’re my wife!”

Nothing still nothing. Pain seared inside him, tearing him apart inside like lightning hitting a tree. He stopped rubbing and bowed his head over her body. She was gone. His extraordinary wife was gone. He knew she would say that he was strong enough to handle this, to move on. Alistair wasn’t so sure. All he wanted to do was howl. “You never should have come… Why did you come!?” The pain inside him was unbearable. He clenched his fists. How did people live through this?


	11. The Wrath Of A Kind Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A royal rampage.

 

The tip of Alistair’s meticulously styled hair was suddenly soaked and plastered to his forehead. Through the continued roaring in his ears, it took Alistair a moment to place the sound that accompanied this: coughing.

Then his eyes widened. Holding his breath, Alistair raised his head. Please Maker was she? She was coughing up water. Never had he been so glad to have someone mess up his hair. Never had she been so beautiful. Cradling her close, he ever so gently caressed her cheek in his hand and turned her head to the side. Water flowed more freely from her mouth with each cough now. He realized he was still holding his breath and let it out. For the moment, Alistair was unable to speak, his heart hammering in his chest like a drum. As the coughs stopped and subsided into gasps, he recovered his voice. “Oh Tori…” The horrible pain inside him was abating and he felt slightly hysterical, “Breathe,” He whispered roughly. “That’s it… Maker just breathe.” He paused for a long moment, just watching her letting the knowledge fill him. She was still alive. She was alive! “And don’t scare your man half to death like that, you naughty woman.” He tried to make a joke in a quivering voice. He tilted her head back up from its sideways position and bent down to kiss her forehead. She was alive. She was alive. They hadn’t killed her.  She was alive. Her eyes were open he when pulled back. “Torania?” He stroked her cheek. She blinked and smiled at him looking slightly disoriented. “Wha-?”

“Just… Just rest for a bit alright? Then I’ll tell you what happened if you still don’t remember,” he cut her off.  Torania blinked again and then the confusion cleared from her eyes. They flicked to the water for a split second and back to him.

“I’M GOING TO BLOODY KILL THEM!” A gasp.  Alistair smiled a bit. It seemed neither her personality nor her lungs had been damaged.

“We can kill them together.” Alistair was a merciful man but doing this, hurting… nearly… well really hurting his wife…  was going too far. “But not right now. Please… I just need to hold you.” Torania looked at her husband. She noticed the slight trembling, She noticed his pale face. She looked at the hand still stroking her face almost reverently. The fire drained from her eyes.

“Alistair.” She lifted her arms. He pulled her into an embrace stopping himself from kissing her at the last moment. She needed all the air she could get right now. But he wrapped his arms around her as if to supply a protective shield from the world. Perhaps she did not need one but he never wanted this to happen again. His hand stroked up and down her back. Then he shifted her so he kiss every bit of that beautiful now animated face. She laughed a bit at that then her hand went up to his cheek. He shut his eyes.

“I uh… Might have told them about the old god baby… I’m not sure if they believed me,” he finally confessed.

“Alistair!”

“Don’t even start, woman! I wasn’t… I couldn’t let them… I nearly…  and you would have done the exact same thing!” Torania shut her mouth. He had her there.

“That is… a valid point…” she spoke again.

“Well they are going to die anyway, so it doesn’t really matter, right?” There was a note of pleading in his voice when he asked the question. From where he held her with her head against his chest, Torania could hear his heartbeat. It was beating faster than a mabari ran to a bone. Torania did not have to look up to know what the expression on his face would be. In truth there were a thousand ways this could turn into a disaster. A thousand ways the news could get out before they could kill those who knew.  Both of them knew it . But he had all but mentioned nearly losing her. Torania only had to imagine how she would be feeling if their situations were reversed. To know just how afraid her husband was. What he needed right now was reassurance. And that was something she could give him. She felt a tiny bit weak, she was absolutely exhausted. But those facts she pushed to the side.

“Right,” She lifted herself forcing herself to sit up more. Instinctively he braced her. Torania pressed her lips against her husband’s her hand stroking his cheek. Alistair’s mouth enveloped hers hesitantly almost as if he was afraid to kiss her too hard. Torania was not having that in a kiss that was meant to reassure him. She pressed forward her tongue entering his mouth and slowly Alistair began to kiss her pack passionately just as intensely. There was an air of desperation in his kiss. His tongue explored her mouth every inch of it. He needed to feel it all again not too long ago he had thought she was gone forever. Her tongue playfully jabbed against his when they broke apart both were panting. Both spoke at the same time

“Well that was… intense.”

“Sorry are you okay?”

Torania looked Alistair in the eye.

“I’m fine. Just a bit exhausted. In fact… yes, keep holding me I’m going to sleep.”

Alistair rocked his much smaller wife against himself as she slept exhausted in his arms. The panic and fear were still as fresh in his mind as she was still damp from the water.  This could never happen again. Torania might be uncannily strong but she was still very very fragily human. He had seen her take down multiple ogres all on her own. He had seen her in the middle of a battle field splattered with blood and laughing. He had even seen her take down an arch demon.

Alistair had seen her hurt before. He had seen her fall on the battlefield a very few times, and he had seen her half drowned before. But the hopelessness of holding her pale unbreathing body in his arms… The king suppressed a shudder. He did not want to disturb his wife. Instead he buried his face in her hair until he too fell asleep.

When he woke she was no longer in his arms.

The cry punched through the dim light of the cell like an arrow and Torania turned to her husband. She had been trying to destroy the tub that had nearly drowned her trying to make it pay in some sort of twisted Torania satisfaction. But the cry Alistair made brought her straight over to his side. Torania stroked his husband’s cheek as he pulled her close.

“I… I’m sorry,” He began. “I just…” Torania smoothed some of his hair forward into its trademark point gently. He had not even bothered to do it himself. Her fingers were light and then she moved them down to stroke his face meeting his eyes with her own and trying to put all the love she could into them.

“Shhhh Don’t be sorry. I’m sorry.” She hit herself over the head mentally. _Why would you climb out of his arms Tori he was holding you for a reason!_  “I am also very much alive. And I suppose you have one added on who saves who scale. I’m still winning, you know.” Her eyes twinkled.

“Can we try not to make it a habit?” He tried to sound light hearted but he could hear his voice shake slightly.

“No habits,” she agreed then kissed the side of his neck. “I love you my sweet sweet man. I love you my Alistair. Searching for you… I’ve been so worried. I haven’t felt like myself. Then I saw you and I came alive again.”

He winced.

“Alright bad choice of words, my point is this. “ Her hand went to stroke his cheek. “I know you must have been scared. And Maker I know that kind of thing does not just go away. But I am here. I promise you Alistair I am here in your arms ready to tell you how handsome and wonderful you are.  Also impressed you kept up those chest muscles in captivity.”

He laughed then sobered.

“I thought you were gone like Duncan,” he confessed. She looked at him. Face filled with an emotion there was no true word for. Complete and utter caring and empathy. Maker how had he gotten so lucky as to have a woman like her! And he had almost lost her!

“I’m never going to let this happen again,” Alistair vowed “Never.” He kept his arms around her firmly.

 

Torania snarled when she heard the door open again. She moved to throw herself at the guards who entered then paused. They had weapons.  Beside her Alistair was tense every nerve in his body taut. “You won’t touch her this time.” he snarled

“But I might very well rip your bloody throat out!” she was already looking for ways to get around their defenses. Torania wanted them to die.  To pay for what they did to her and Alistair. They would die.

The first few men that grabbed Alistair were thrown back. One had his head slammed against the wall and stopped moving. Torania blinked at her husband impressed. They heard the footsteps of more coming before they entered the room several men finally pinned her husband to the ground pulling his hands behind his back and shoving him into the wall as he struggled.  Three pairs of arms restrained Torania as she kicked flailed and even bit at them, teeth stained with blood. One of them slammed her head into the floor roughly.

“Tori!”

“Fine! I’m fine!”

The men cursed before finally managing to restrain the queen as well.

As they tied them up Alistair could feel a rage starting to build inside him. Then they pulled him away from Torania.

“No!” No he was not leaving her! No! They might do something to her again! And he would not even be there! The king roared as he fought. Alistair did not feel like himself. He felt a white hot anger that was arching to an inferno inside him. His vision was starting to tunnel.

They took him outside to an elevated porch and sat him down. He could hear soldiers around them but the person he saw was the Dufayel woman sitting beside him. He wanted to kill her

“Ah so that King had joined us,” She gloated. “Good I am going to enjoy this.”

“Enjoy what you wicked evil…” 

She lazily gestured to the open area below them. They were bringing out his wife.

“What is this?”

“Fun! for me at least.“

His eyes flicked from where they had tied Torania up, to the man besides her sporting a long whip. And suddenly Alistair realized what they were going to do. As the first whip sound came his ears started to roar. There was no sound from Tori but that was to be expected. She would be trying to hide all her pain. Another whiplash and he could feel Marguerite’s eyes on his face. This was her fun. Another whiplash and the anger arched even higher.

Alistair had never been this angry in his life. The world was a tunnel in front of him his ears were a roar.

Another lash and suddenly the ropes around him snapped giving way to his tension and rage.

The King of Ferelden turned to his captor and her guards with fire in his eyes. One of the guards came at him with a side hooked pike. Without thinking Alistair grabbed its shaft ripping it out of the man’s hands so hard that his attacker was bowled over. Alistair flicked the weapon around in a single movement and stabbed it into the fallen man as he struggled to get up. The other guard darted in on Alistair quickly coming into close range as he tried to grab the pike and shove the point out of the way in order stab the king with his sword.  Alistair pulled the shaft back and the weapon up and into blade fighting range by his head. The man grabbing it was pulled along with it knocked off balance and vulnerable.

Alistair stabbed downward with the pike once twice three times. He was not aware of the gurgling screams. He was not aware of the blood splattering all over his body.  Turned to face Marguerite as she opened her mouth, was probably saying something. Alistair didn’t care. He shoved the spear through her middle in one smooth movement. And left her dying there in her fancy Orlesian chair choking on her own blood

He fought many as he made his way down to his wife. Alistair didn’t see their faces. Didn’t even think about what he was doing. But they died. Everyone who got in his way died.

As he reached his wife The horrible frothing rage started to pale to concern. The man whipping her was gone, had probably run. She was tied to the post by her arms which were raised above her bowed head. Her knees bent, and she was just sort of hanging there.  And her back…. Alistair winced. The ground was stained in her blood and the gashes looked deep. Very  deep. Rushing up he cut the ropes and caught her in his arms.

“Tori?” He asked.

She opened her eyes. Her face was sweaty and pale

“Did I know you could do that?” She whispered.

“I don’t think I knew I could do that,” he replied.

“Alistair… bring me a sword,” She demanded

Alistair blinked. “But Tori you are hurt and…”

Her eyes blazed. “Alistair bring me a bloody sword!”

“Right one sword coming up!” He let go of Torania carefully and for a moment it looked like she might fall over. Then she stood.

He grabbed one from one of the bodies. _Did… did he really? kill that many? All on his own?_ And gave it to his wife. He was unsure if she would be able to walk…. 

Torania gave the blade a grim smile.

Alistair caught the blade of the next swordsman with the tip of his pike before twirling the weapon around to hit them in the face. As they stumbled back he caught another blade with the hook and shoved it away from his body. Then Torania was there.  Darting in and leaving a blood trail in the dirt even before she killed a man.

“Trap their weapons. I’ll kill them” She instructed.

They worked in tandem, Alistair using his pike to catch men before they could come in range and Torania ending their lives. Until finally even the queen could not keep going. Alistair had to fight down panic as he saw his wife fall to her knees, and then to the ground. He moved forward to cover her just as the man he assumed to be the leader of the mercenaries stepped forward. And this man knew how to fight.  As Alistair went into attack the man aimed for the king’s lead hand. Alistair was barely able to move it in time and the leader’s blade took a chip out of the wood. The king was now on the defense and his foe knew it. The man attacked like a demon and Alistair saw another chip come out of the wood as he tried to block. What could he do? Take Tori and run? He would never make it, never scoop her up in time.  A good king would probably leave her. Alistair didn’t want to be a good king. There was no time to pick up a new weapon under the continued blows from his foe. The mercenary leader’s blade came down on his pole arm again and it shattered.

The howl of a dying man split the Fereldan night. But it did not come from Alistair. The mercenary leader fell, a blade having shoved up and skewered him from the ground. A blade from a woman without the strength to even get to her own knees. A woman who had put everything into this one last gesture.

Torania smiled seeing her foe fall. Then her head fell to the dusty ground and her eyes closed.  And when Alistair took her into his arms, tearing cloth from the tunics of nearby soldier’s  to bandage her back, and she did not stir save for the reassuring rise and fall of her chest; he knew she would not be coming back to him for awhile this time.

 

It is said that the royal couple of Fereldan came out of that courtyard like something out of the tales. The king holding the limp body of his queen, both of them leaving behind more dead than many cared to count.

It is said they were met just outside by the Teyrna of Gwaren and her men along with their companions and the court healer to be Agata

It is said that the healer Agata refused to heal the marks on the queens back all the way stating that the king needed a reminder he could be badarse too

It is said if you look carefully you can see them to this day

But such tales are the stuff of legends right? Who can really say?


	12. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And this story ends…. Making way for another.

Torania opened her eyes to a from earlier stone ceiling. Letting out a groan she struggled to sit up. Dislodging the furs that were draped over her. “Bloody…” And then he was there. Her Alastair her sweet sweet man was there helping her to a seat. She was back in their bed and he was there with her. 

“Alistair,” She took in the details of his face. His lips his nose. His hair… like the sunrise… the color of the sunrise. He was truly the most handsome man in the world. 

“Easy Tori,” he whispered They was a wrinkle between his brow. Instead she threw her arms around her neck. Alistair sweeped her out of bed and twirled her. Delivering kisses to her nose her forehead his cheeks, her lips, as they gallivanted around the room. She laughed and clung to him and he held her tightly to his chest.

“Tori. My Tori.”

“My sweet sweet man.” Eventually they stopped twirling and he sat on the edge of the bed with her in his lap.

“You saved me, you know,” He whispered into her hair

“Of course I did. I am bloody amazing…but,” She paused. “You saved me as well.”

“Maybe, but I almost didn’t.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s how it works for heroes Alistair. A lot of almost and maybes that just seem to work out.”

“I’m not sure I like being a hero all that much.”

Torania looked up at him sympathetically. “Hold me in your arms even closer tonight. That’s what I do for the nightmares. And Alistair?”

“Hmmm?”

“I love you and I’m here.”

He buried his face in her shoulder as they wrapped their arms around each other in the afternoon light of their bedroom.

And for Torania it was as if life had begun again. Alistair. Her Alistair was back with her. She never wanted to be away from him besides the occasional mission or dragon hunt again.

 

**Addendum:**

Dheamanras went back to the Talas clan and eventually was promoted to First.

Penetra became sole leader of the relatively small Fereldan underworld

Ceadda Caycey remained Teyrn of Gwaren

Hearing of the part Ser Cauthrien and Maric’s Shield played they were accepted and forgiven by the people of the south

Aleandra Depruse remained a translator for the king and queen.

The Society For The Restoration Of Imperial Rule continued its warehouse parties. Now with a royal spy in their midst.

Zevran and Kitten went back to Antiva where they continued with their work of overthrowing the crows.

Leliana returned to continue being the left hand of the divine

Finn and Ariane continued to travel together and became the subject of many popular chap books

King Alistair accepted the inevitability of more guards being needed.

Agata was made royal chief healer.

Realizing how well it worked for her to have a small group of elites instead of many men in armor Torania formed ‘The Queen’s Guard’.

Both the king and queen ruled well together until the queen left to search for a cure to the calling,  _ **but that, as they say, is a different story.**_


End file.
